Crash Course
by babyhilts
Summary: After getting into an accident in her 94' red Jetta off a Vacouver highway, Leah wakes up in West Texas, trying to convince herself that whatever has happened and is happening is just some painful dream.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This is something a little different. Not sure if it's been done yet, but I hope you all enjoy. I wanted to play with a character who is just your average gal, no fancy hairdo or slim waistline, just your everyday girl. Thought it would be fun to throw a supernatural fan into supernatural. Sounds a bit lame, but I think the story so far has come out good. Judge for yourselves. Enjoy and review! Oh and as for my other story Runnin' With the Devil, check it out if you haven't yet and I will be putting up another chapter shortly!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own supernatural!

**Crash Course**

**_By: Babyhilts_**

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**Chapter 1:**

The small red Jetta slipped and skidded across the wet asphalt. The highway was nearly deserted as it always was at one in the morning. A storm that hadn't let up for hours, now had my old rust bucket of a car engulfed in a heavy onslaught of cold rain and damaging winds. Whatever trees line the side of the roads, bent over backwards, their bodies taking on the forms of shadowed contortionists in the summer storm. If the weather didn't let up soon, there'd be a hell of a lot of damage and clean up when the sun came up.

Tires squealed dangerously on the sloppy grey cement. Knuckle grip and clenched teeth was my immediate reaction. Sweat lay an uncomfortable translucent sheen coating across my back and face. Bangs stuck to my forehead awkwardly. I'd have pushed them aside because they continuously slipped in front of my eyes, but I feared the moment I did I would loose control of the car and swerve off into the rails lining the road.

Through the beating of hard rain on the metal car roof, the slight crackling of an old car radio sounded through the musty upholstery covered vehicle. I'd turned the volume down quite some time before when the rain had picked up and the muscles in my stomach had clenched. I couldn't afford the distraction.

Headlights up ahead cut through the thick wall of rain and they were coming up fast. The powerful truck shot past me, oblivious to the highway conditions and stirring up the road so that the poor Jetta and I shook and rattled along a few more minutes. I held fast to the wheel and swallowed the lump in my throat.

I checked the car's digital clock and let loose a frustrated sigh. Nearly one thirty. I'd stepped out of the house forty five minutes ago for a tub of cookie dough ice cream and now here I was, stuck in a pile of junk going 60 miles an hour down a deserted highway in the worst weather, all because I couldn't control a stupid craving. Who eats ice cream so late at night anyway? The bit of tummy protruding over my brown leather belt indicated that ice cream wasn't what I needed.

"What you need is a membership for the YMCA" I scolded out load and turned hateful eyes at the bag sitting shotgun. The container was hidden but I knew the desert was there, underneath the plastic rapping, it would wait for me.

The radio gave a loud crackling sound. Through the white noise a voice came through, a soft; familiar sound that relaxed the shaken nerves in my body. Dean Martin sang, "You're Nobody Till Somebody Loves You" and it tug at my heartstrings. I turned the volume up a few notches and kept focus back on the road. Still, I heard the melody, tell a story and let it play out in my head.

I'd have sung along with it, but it was getting late, I was moody, the ice cream was probably melting and I figured I'd never make it back home to my one bedroom apartment. How lonely. The only thing I had waiting at home was an empty fridge filled with condiments and a pile of unwashed clothes and dishes.

"I really need a man to do this late night driving for me."

The words had just left my mouth when a car horn sounded through the storm. Headlights once again broke through, catching me off guard with their high beams and blinding me long enough, so that as I squinted through the sodium light, I noticed the pick up truck coming closer and closer, only ten meters from my precious Jetta. Hastily, I pulled the wheel towards the left, wondering how I'd managed to swerve into the opposite lane. It didn't matter know. The truck was coming up fast and I had yet to get out of the head on collision zone.

Metal scrapping metal sounded through the night. The Jetta jerked further towards the left as the pickup brushed against the drivers side door and continued to whiz on by. A sigh escaped through my trembling lips but I was still in danger. The tires barely held in place on the slippery ground and before I knew it, the car was spinning towards the side of the highway. I did my best to pull the vehicle back onto the road, I tried to break, I cried out for help but the car just continued to spin. The pile of rust shook harder as the ground beneath the fragile car shifted from even and smooth to rough and slanting. I was going down! The car was almost facing forward again, but still titled on its side just a bit. My seatbelt dug painfully into my gut as I felt the rest of myself pressing up against the driver side door. Hands against the glass, I braced for the impact that awaited me. The rain prevented me from knowing when it would happen but at the rate the car was falling it was only a matter of time before we hit even ground again.

Time stopped for a moment. The car dipped completely on the driver's side. I screamed in spite of it. The window let out a loud crunch as glass broke about my face. The rest of the car fell over again and soon we weren't just sliding we were rolling. I'm not sure how many times we rolled. Every time the top of the car hit the ground, I cried, scared that the moan of bending metal only meant that the roof would cave in on me. Something cold and heavy shot out from somewhere in the car and hit my right temple. Only after it hit the floor did I notice it was the ice cream.

"Brilliant" I cursed and the car took one last violent roll.

The Jetta stopped on its roof, so that as I hung suspended in the air, seatbelt nipping at my bruised stomach and the blood rushing to my head, I scolded myself for ever having left the apartment. All for a tub of fucking ice cream.

Things shifted in and out of focus for the next little while and although I knew falling asleep could be dangerous, I couldn't help but give in to the darkness when it finally came around to claim me.

It was a few hours later when the sound of someone knocking woke me from my reverie. First thing that I noticed was the pain. Before I opened my eyes or struggled to move, the pain came. Every muscle burned and every limb throbbed. A bitter metallic taste lined the walls of my mouth. I didn't bother to move even after the knocking became more insistent. I had yet to figure out why I was hurting so much and it was hard to focus with the rattle that echoed around me ever time the fist connected with the doors hard surface.

Probably the landlord. That was all I could come up with. He was always on my case for unpaid rent, but didn't he know I was a lonely twenty some year old, trying to make it on her own in Vancouver?

Another knock and then I heard the sound of metal on metal. Was he opening my front door? Slimy, overweight bastard was invading my privacy! He must not know how to work a doorknob and key together, because still no footsteps filled my apartment. There were sounds. Talking. Someone next to my left, their voice muffled by the door was calling out. Damn, couldn't he take a hint? Then there was another voice. More urgent than the first, calling out from my right. Two? What? The voices meshed with one another and bounced around the foggy walls of my mind. Avoiding the issue was getting me and my quickly forming headache nowhere. I decided to face the landlord head one.

I eased my eyes open in hopes the pain wouldn't be so bad, but it did hardly anything to help. It was still fairly dark out. A dark black/blue colour filed around me and I knew dawn would arrive in another couple of hours. This irked me a bit more, to know the grease ball couldn't wait until at least 8 a.m. like everyone else to come pounding on a poor girl's door. Of course, the anger faded completely when I took in the rest of my surroundings.

Instead of being spread out in an entanglement of soft sheets and pillows, I was sitting upright, in the front seat of my Jetta. The windshield was caved in and glass was scattered about my feet and lap. Pieces of it fell from my hair as I turned my head upwards. A silent, darkened highway that I couldn't recognize lay before me. No cars passed by. It was then that it hit me. I'd been in a wreck. Everything came rushing back in an instant. I vaguely remembered blacking out while the car was upside down and now suddenly it was right side up? The rain had stopped and instead of being at the bottom of a hill, I was somewhere else.

Once again I tried to move my head. I had to get out of the vehicle and get home. However, fate had other plans for me as it seemed it always did. Before I could make a move, the car gave another whine and then a rush of cold air flooded the car. There was a noise coming from my left and the car shook as something tug on it from that side. I didn't bother with it though. The new found chill hurt almost as bad as the cuts and bruises.

"I got it!" Someone shouted. A face appeared in the passenger side doorway. A lanky body, awkwardly climbed over the seat, slowly inching its way to where I still remained, trapped by the seatbelt and pain. "Hey, it's okay. You're going to be okay."

The deep voice was reassuring. I smiled and felt the strangers hand brush the remnants of my broken window out of my disheveled hair. When he'd finished I looked up and took in the face of my rescuer. A young man, in his early twenties stared back. Dark brown eyes, welled with concern searched mine. Shaggy brown hair to match fell around his tanned face and I realized I knew this face. I'd seen it somewhere before. It only took me half a second to place who this guy was.

Even through the pain, I felt the heat radiate off my face as I flushed.

"Jared?"

It came out as a rough scratchy sound and I cringed at the awful noise my voice made. The young man gave me a strange look and moved forward to undo my belt. The strap flew away and immediately I slumped forward without the protective restraint to keep me up.

"I got you" he whispered and eased his hands around my waist. "Come on, we have to get you out of here."

I only nodded, thinking it was easier said than done. He must have thought the same thing because he still hadn't bothered to carry my sorry ass through the car. What was he waiting for?

"Dean!"

There was a pause. Was someone else here?

"Yeah, give me a second here Sammy. The doors crushed like a pop can."

"Well, hurry up."

The car moaned and the metal cried out as the driver's side door fell away. Another rush of air hit me. I shivered against it and waited to take in my second rescuer. The next face that came into view nearly took my breath away. The neatly geld hair and chiseled face came within inches of my own.

"Jensen?"

"Who?"

I trembled but not from excitement. The blonde haired man reached forward and eased me into his arms and out of the car as gently as possible. It was even colder outside. I steadied myself against his sturdy chest and let out a quiet moan.

"You gonna be okay?" I looked up to the voice and caught another worried look. Did I hurt myself that bad?

"I don't know. I've never crashed before."

He laughed and as the words caught up to my brain I cringed.

"How is she?"

The second young man came forward, looking over me, starting from the ground up. I felt uncomfortable under the gaze but let it happen just the same. There were too many questions running through my head for me to worry about. Questions like, were these two men, my own modern day superheroes, were they really who I thought they were? Everything pointed to yes, that in fact, Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles had just pulled me from a car wreck. It wasn't that far off. I mean, I had been driving only a little ways off from where I'd assumed they shot their television show, so it could very well be them. Course, why then had they looked at me with such confused expressions when I spoke their names?

"I'm sorry about this."

Jensen's right arm wrapped securely around my front and held me closer to his chest. I hadn't noticed that my knees were buckling from my own weight. The headache that had started out as only a dull ache now was on the verge of sledgehammer intensity. Jared bent down to my short stature of 5'2 and paused, as if searching for something. I brushed an unsteady hand through matted hair.

"Sorry for what?"

The whisper was barely audible. Although there were no sounds around, a low pitch ring buzzed inside my ears. I shook it off, but it only came back.

I took in the actor's boyish charm and smiled through the pain. "I must have missed the signs. I didn't mean to interrupt your shooting."

My eyes wandered across the highway and side roads. No cameras. No grips or directors. No extras, or snack tables, or trailers. Where was the makeup crew? Where were the stunt doubles? Jensen's grip tightened and I heard him talk slowly into my ear.

"What shooting?"

This wasn't right. How could they not know what I'd meant? Was I slurring my words? I steadied my voice and prepared to speak again. "You know. For Supernatural."

Jared's head shot up and a look I'd never seen on anyone washed over him as he looked up to the man steadying me. Why were they being so difficult?

"How do you know about the supernatural and us?"

"It's on the television set almost every Thursday night." No on answered. Jared once again came into my line of sight. "You know. On the WB, or CW or whatever, it's a tv station. You do know what I'm talking about right?"

"Can't say that we do" Jensen's voice came back in a gruff sound over my shoulder.

"Oh, please don't do this" I nearly whined. I didn't feel much like joking around with these guys. As good looking as they were, it would only get them so far.

"Don't do what?" Jared soothed.

"This." I shot back, pulling from Jensen's hold and stepping forward on weakening legs. "You know? 'Two brothers on a quest for answers'. Ring any bells?"

They didn't respond. I turned back and caught Jensen frowning at me. This wasn't happening. Was I dreaming? The pain was so real. Everything was so real.

"What's your name?" I breathed out. I wasn't sure what answer to expect, but I needed to confirm what a smaller part of me kept screaming out.

"We can deal with names and formalities later babe, right now you need to relax before you start to hyperventilate."

I was breathing quite rapidly. Beneath my shirt sweat poured down my back in thin rivers of clear liquid while my heart thrashed against my ribs. I turned to Jared. Screaming inside for him to answer me. I had to have answers before I turned hysterical.

"Don't patronize me." I grounded out. "Just tell me your name. Please."

Jared nodded toward Jensen and watched carefully before replying. "I'm Sam. Sam Winchester. The guy behind you is my older brother Dean and twenty minutes ago we were driving down the highway and found your car rammed against the side rails."

"You can't be. You're not Sam Winchester. You're…" He cocked his head and I stopped mid sentence when something caught my eye. In all the time I'd stood there I hadn't noticed it but now it was nearly impossible not to. The black Chevy Impala, headlights still on, sat on the shoulder of the highway, just a few feet behind what remained of the red Jetta. Classic rock faintly sounded from the car speakers. I wanted to cry at the sight of it. It was only us on the highway. No television crew and a car, that I'd remember anywhere. I wanted to cry because everything was perfectly clear to me then but made no sense. This must be a dream. A very realistic and long, painful dream. Sam and Dean weren't real. Were they?

"Sam?"

"Yes."

"Where am I?"

"Were in west Texas. Don't you remember how you got here?"

My stomach churned dangerously. I didn't know how I got there. Where was Vancouver? Where were the trees and mountains? Where was my home? Things like this weren't supposed to happen. I had to wake up soon. I thought about pinching myself, but the look Sam was giving me said don't do it, or you might come off a bit too unstable for even the Winchesters to handle. I relaxed and decided to make the most of it. A dream couldn't last for ever. Why not play along? In a little while things would grow hazy and I'd wake up, safe and warm, once again in the rundown apartment with the neighbors across the hall screaming about curfews and responsibility.

"I'm Leah."

Sam smiled. "Well, there's a start, huh?"

"Yeah, real smooth Romeo. How bout you sweet talk the little lady when she doesn't have a concussion."

I smirked and would have said more but suddenly things weren't looking too good. As if they'd been looking any better before.

A pain wound up through the back of my head, knocking me off balance and sending me backwards into Sam's chest. I reached out through a dark fog that had set over my eyes and tried my best to hold onto steady ground. Hands from behind protectively held me up from face planting with the cracked cement. A burning sensation was spreading out from my stomach and I groaned, mildly wondering what was happening. Was I dying?

"She needs a hospital" someone said. I couldn't place the voice.

"No, don't take me to a hospital" I whispered. Dean stood over me and cupped my chin.

"Why?"

"I…keep me with you?" Was the best I could come up with.

"Dean?"

"Sammy, she needs medical attention."

"Dean, she's scared."

I was also getting mad. Who were they to start talking as if I weren't even there? Although, what they said made sense. I wasn't doing too well on my own. I couldn't afford to loose these two though. I knew as soon as I entered the hospital they would leave and hit the road, if it was really them, and then I'd be stuck in some alternate dream, television, supernatural world without anyone or anything. They were my best bet and in desperation I played out what I knew would get their attention.

"I know things." I said tugging on Dean's arm. He shot me a look that I ignored. "I know about Lawrence and Mary. 22 years ago, when you carried Sammy from the house. I know about John disappearing and Stanford and…and the visions."

"Leah…"

"Rock salt repels spirits." I called out. Things were getting darker. "Please, don't leave me."

Darkness settled in for good this time and soon their faces shifted out of sight and out of mind completely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Okay, so here's the next chappie. Glad everyone is enjoying this so far, I know I'm having a blast writing it. Hope this just as good as the first chappie. It's a bit short, a bit more humour, i think? lol. But it will be getting more action packed, still trying to develope Leah as a character and get the brothers to trust her. Anywho, enjoy and as always review, review, review.

Big warm thanks goes out to everyone who has reviewed. You guys are the best and it was your reviews that helped get me to update so fast. So thank you and enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own supernatural. Obviously

**Crash Course**

**_By: Babyhilts_**

**Chapter 2:**

The bed was shaking. Odd as that would seem, I didn't pay much heed to it. I was more concerned about going back to sleep. The bed could shake for days if it wanted to, as long as I was allowed to fall back into my beloved dream. It was a favourite of mine. Once in a while, usually when things weren't really going my way at work, or just weren't going at all, I'd fall asleep, drained of all my resources and imagine myself with Jensen Ackles. Sometimes Jared would show up, you know, to make one of those random appearances and then float in the backdrop. Usually Jensen and I just talked for a while, going on about useless stuff that everyone else couldn't be bothered with. But in Leah Land, with Jensen at my side, I did bother with it. Hell, I'd have let that gorgeous hunk of man meat shave my head in Leah Land if only to stall consciousness for a few minutes more.

The dream I was waking up from now hadn't been quite as pleasurable let's say, as the other ones had and I'll leave it at that. Still, going back into any dream with Jensen was better than facing the reality of a lonely apartment and dirty dishes crusting over in the sink.

Another quake rocked the bed and I moaned out loud as a dull pain found its way back into my head. Something wasn't right. There was something that had happened, something I couldn't quite remember.

I squinted through the early morning sun and rolled onto my side. There wasn't any bed I realized when I hit the floor. Sand shot upwards in an explosive, stinging cloud. I coughed harshly on the dirt and propped myself off the ground.

Everything was moving. I looked up and once again, noticed that I still hadn't found myself safe in my double bed. I was sprawled awkwardly on the floor of a moving vehicle. Panic coursed through my veins. I nearly wet myself as thoughts of kidnapping and rape raced through my head. Pictures of newspaper clippings laid out in a neat pile on my mum's kitchen table came to mind. I could see the headlines now. "Local girl, missing in Vancouver" "Jogger finds skeletal remains in woods that may belong to young woman" "Landlord says she was a good tenant who didn't deserve what happened."

Why would my mother keep the clippings?

"Dean, would you slow down?"

Dean? Oh. My. God. I had blacked out on the highway in the arms of Sam Winchester. Dean had been only a few feet behind, telling me to go to a hospital. Was that where we were going?

Outside the window were only empty fields of burnt grass and wheat. No signs of civilization anywhere. Guess were not in Vancouver anymore Dorothy. Which only meant that this was really happening. I hadn't dreamt the crash or the rescue. What did that mean then? That this reality was actually all existing? That somewhere, here, wherever I was, was real? Did that mean wherever I came from wasn't real? Were Jensen and Jared real, or was it Sam and Dean?

"I feel sick."

The contents of my stomach swirled around violently beneath my stained grey sweater. A low garbled sound broke through the impala and a dark haired man turned around to stare at me from the passenger seat.

"Hey, how are you doing?"

I shook my head. I was going to vomit. Painful convulsions erupted in the depths of my chest as undigested food struggled to the top. I braced myself for the inevitable. The little voice in my head said to tell them, tell them you're going to blow chunks all over their nice upholstery. Though the words never came out, the sound of me gasping every time another tremor hit was enough to draw attention.

"What's going on? What is she doing?"

Sam paused to study the teary eyed expression I wore across my face.

"Pull over!"

"Sam?"

"She's gonna puke. Pull the car over now Dean!"

The car swerved off the asphalt and onto the uneven gravel. I already had one hand on the right side door, with the other covering my mouth. Handle in my grasp, I paid not attention to the harshness with which I used to open the door and hit the ground with a hard thud. Rocks shot out around me as my knees dug fist size holes into the gravel. Another set of car doors followed. Something, thick and heavy crawled up the walls of my throat. A rumbling sounded from my stomach. Caught by surprise, I opened my mouth and felt everything pour out of me in one last tremor. Hands still suspended inches below my bottom lip caught the majority of it and what didn't hit my sweaty palms, sunk through the cracks of my fingers and onto the highway's rock carpeting. Tears crawled along my fleshy cheeks and mingled with the remaining vomit that trailed down the length of my chin. In one minute I had regressed from a level headed twenty seven year old woman, to a helpless six year old girl. I wanted nothing more than to bury my head in the sand but I couldn't even lower my hands to dump out the pile of acidic sludge. It just sat there, while I stared ahead, letting my body shiver in the cool morning air.

The crunch of gravel caught my attention. I didn't look to see what had caused the noise but knew that whatever it was would make itself known soon enough. And it did. A reassuring hand took hold of my trembling shoulders. Almost immediately the tension in my back left. I sunk further into myself and dropped the thick mess from my hands.

"Awe, that's just nasty."

"Please" I choked, spitting up a bit.

A hand, holding out a Dairy Queen napkin appeared in front of my face. I took it gratefully and wiped off my chin and hands. I wished there was something more. The acidic taste still lingered heavily on my tongue and my hands stunk of puke. I looked down at the ground and sighed at the pink, chunky shit spread in front my folded legs. I don't remember eating that. What was that? Macaroni? With a hint of basil?

"Feel better?"

"I'm getting there."

I rose to my feet and steadied myself hurriedly against the Chevy's sleek back. Dean visibly winced and shook his head.

"Hands" he said motioning with his own.

"What about them?"

"They have partially digested food smell all over em. It's getting onto the car."

I pulled away as if I'd been burnt by the ebony coating. Sam made a sound behind me and cuffed Dean in the back of his head. How cute it would be, were I watching it from my living room!

"He doesn't mean that."

"Yeah, I do. No offense. You're just not the most aromatic person at the moment."

"Are you going to hose me off then?" I replied haughtily. Jensen Ackles I could like, Dean Winchester, was a bit more rough around the edges I quickly began to realize.

"Hose you off?" he smirked.

"Yeah, because when I get back inside" I pointed to the vehicle "I'm still going to smell just as good as I do now. Unless you have a supply of water and a hose in that trunk next to your machete and cross bow?"

Both brothers turned on me. Dean didn't seem quite so sarcastic and Sam was looking less like the gentle younger brother. They wore emotionless glares, that dug through my soul and rattled my bones. I could feel the heat of intimidation burn my flesh as they loomed over me, their shadows trapping me in a bar-less prison.

"You're not going anywhere near my car until you tell me who you are and how the hell you know as much as you do."

Dean's voice unnerved me completely. It was dull and rough and held so much anger that I needed to cry or be hugged or something. Why couldn't I end up somewhere with sweet ol' Brad Pitt?

"I…I'm…" I thought about pretending to faint. That could buy me another couple of hours, but then they may just leave me on the side of the road for some wandering hitchhiker.

"Leah, you better tell us the truth." Sam's voice matched Deans. They both waited with that glazed look in their eyes.

The truth? Ha, that would be a real riot. Telling the truth would mean signing my lifetime membership for the funny farm. Didn't they understand that where I came from they didn't exist? Well, of course they didn't understand that, but damn it, I wish they could. Lies, that's all I had left and they called out to me, each one begging to be used. Some weren't the best. Like maybe I could say I knew John, but then there'd be so many questions. I could lie, say that I'm psychic and that I'd dreamt about the events and left to find them and warn them of some impending danger. But what then, if they asked for me to demonstrate these Miss Cleo skills. Or, there was always the truth. I crashed my Jetta back in Vancouver, woke up in west Texas in an alternate universe where fictional characters live.

Yeah, definitely lie.

"I'm a hunter" I replied reluctantly. I couldn't look Sam in the eyes and lie to the boy. Even up close he kept you drawn with those glassy puppy eyes and it hurt, right in the centre of my gut to have to lie to him. But it was for their own good, not just mine. What if telling them the truth disrupted the balance of the world or some kind of Stephen Hawking shit like that.

"Hunter of what?"

Dean's tone was bitter and cautious and completely untrusting. Figured it would be.

"Whatever I come across. Poltergeists, Jersey devils, demons, the works." God was I really saying this? Did I sound like a professional Ghostbuster? Maybe a badge would prove my loyalty for the supernatural.

"That still doesn't explain how you knew those things. About Kansas and our dad. Care to share?"

Now that the lies were spun, why not? I had to hold myself from saying 'Well, I get these nightmares and sometimes they come true' but I really don't think they would have found it very funny anyway and probably make me come across even more untrustworthy.

"I've been tracking this demon for three years now. I don't know much on it; it's quite old and a dark, evil son of a bitch. I figure he's the one who took my mother when I was only six months old…" I spat out the lie like I'd been practicing for years. "I was passed around to aunts and uncles, anyone who could take me until I was put into a girl's home at two. Since then, I've been on my own. Seven years ago I came across a man in Blue Earth, Minnesota."

"Pastor Jim" Sam stated. I nodded my head and felt relief slowly come over me when I realized they were just eating it up.

"Jim Murphy explained things to me. Told me what was out there and put me on the right path. That's when I realized what happened, all those years ago it wasn't some electrical fire, it had been a demon."

"And about us?" Dean pushed once more.

"Jim told me. Said there were other people like me, who shared the same passion, who I could turn to if I ever needed help. I never expected to run into the famous Winchester brothers."

"It wasn't us you ran into hon, it was the side rails."

I smiled. Dean's lightheartedness was back.

"Hey, how'd you know about the weapons though?"

I laughed and turned to Sam.

"Where does everybody hide an arsenal of rock salt and holy water? Their trunk!"

He nodded and I waited for Dean to finish sizing me up. This time he watched with a different look in his eyes. Not one of those, 'Hey, hey look at me. I'm checking you out babe. I'm taking in your assets so that maybe I can find some reason to start a conversation, babe" looks. It was a very condescending, strictly business look that made me feel like he had something better to do than stare at my small rolls of blubber and hunched shoulders.

Unconsciously I brushed back my hair. It felt dry and frizzed, which was to be expected. The only time I ever come close to two guys like these and I have Don King and Chia Pet hair.

Dean's eyes paused and lit up with mirth as he stared momentarily at the ground. I followed his gaze and had to stop myself from running down the highway. He was checking out my sandals. They weren't just any sandals of course, they couldn't be! They were the thick, tom boyish ones that I never wore, but were now glued to my feet. Thick black straps laced across the top, stuck in place with the wonder of Velcro. I knew just by catching the smirk on Dean's lips he would love nothing more than to pull back the straps, just to hear the embarrassing sound of the Velcro teeth releasing their hold.

"You're a hunter huh?"

What was he getting at now? "Yeah, that's what I said."

"And you're hunting out in Velcro sandals and baggy jeans?"

Smartass! This wasn't some fashion show in Milan; this was the middle of nowhere. If I listened closely I could hear the tumbleweeds complaining. Why did he have to be so cocky? On TV it came across as sexy, in person it was as annoying as hell. Well he wasn't getting off easy. As they say it takes two to tango and this time Leah Carson wasn't holding anything back.

"Oh sweetheart, I don't do shoes."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Thank you everyone who reviewed for my last chapter. I really do appreciate the nice words it helps me to keep writing. So sorry for the long delay in updating. Had a bit of writers block and wrote about three different versions for the beginning of this chappie. I'm still not sure how it came out but oh well, I think I know where I'm going in the next one, so hopefully you wont have to wait long. As always review, review, review and Enjoy!

Chapter 3:

The outside world passed the impala in a blur. Not that we were missing much. The last two hours had revealed nothing but road signs and baking tarmac, so when Dean went over the speed limit and the images became indiscernible to my eyes I didn't much care. Stale vomit took up residence on my taste buds and the bumps and bruises from the car accident weren't fairing out any better. A deep bruise stretched across my lower abdomen in a dangerous purple shade and while the cut just below my hairline had stopped bleeding, my head continued to pulsate with every intake of breath.

Since getting back into the car after my vomiting incident the speakers had remained silent. Dean didn't play rock music that much. Not nearly as much as the show would let on. Sam was resting in the passenger seat, head tilted awkwardly against the window. I winced every time we hit a dip in the road and his forehead made contact with the glass. Sam never woke from it and Dean didn't seem bothered enough to care. Was a car ride with the Winchesters always so dull?

Leaning back in the rough upholstery I quickly replayed the day's events over in my head. The car crash-which still only came as a few snap shots of breaking glass and crunching metal-, the rescue, the Winchesters, getting sick on the highway and the whole little bit about reality disappearing and finding myself in some type of nightmare. Were it not so realistic I might have said dream. It wouldn't be the first Jensen Ackles dream but this one, the pain was real and the worry was real and the taste of vomit definitely wasn't dreamlike, that alone made it a nightmare. Digested spaghetti, mmm, nothing better than having that sit on your tongue for a few hours, so it must be a nightmare. Besides, usually in dreams things never got as boring as they were then. Or as awkward.

"You wouldn't happen to have any water up there, would you?"

They were the first few words I'd spoken since getting back into the Chevy. There'd been that brief moment after I got sick where the words wouldn't stop pouring out. Through the onslaught of lies I vaguely recalled making some quip about shoes and worrying about my own, but since then it had only been awkward, tense and silent. The three most hated things ever, especially when it came to Dean and Sam Winchester. It didn't matter how arrogant, or cocky, that Dean was, he was sexy. I couldn't lie to myself, I was too old for that, so I just accepted it and tried to fake off the awkward hours.

"I didn't have any a few hours ago, why would I have some now?"

He was irritated. I got that. From the tension in his shoulders it was easy enough to pick up. The silence had to be disrupted though; if I didn't break it soon enough I'd go crazy.

"Well I never asked you a few hours ago, did I?"

If you don't want to make nice then neither will I. I looked to where Sam was still asleep and sighed, looking once again out the window. How long did he have to sleep for? Didn't he know a strange, chubby woman was sitting behind him, possibly a big liar, who only got into a car accident because she wanted ice cream at midnight? It was obvious Dean was catching on, but this kid had gone to Stanford, that must account for something.

"So, what did you say you were doing out driving again?"

"I didn't."

"Yeah, that's why I was asking you." He paused and looked down at Sam. Was he hoping his brother would break the awkward silence too? "I saw some ice cream on the floor by your dash. Doing groceries or something?"

"Weren't you listening to my story? I hunt. I drive. I don't live anywhere, why would I need groceries? To put in the stowaway fridge in my trunk?"

"So, what? You just picked up a tub of ice cream and were going to eat it all before it melted?"

"That was the plan."

Dean's eyes lowered and the sarcasm disappeared as his voice came back with a bitter tone. "No wonder you careened off the road."

"Excuse me?"

The shy, self-conscious girl was gone and the defensive woman with over twenty years of experience in dealing with men was there, ready to take Mr. Winchester down a few pegs. He may be good looking but it didn't give him the right to bully me around.

"You heard me."

"I know I heard you. Boy, don't you have any manners? I just got into a car wreck and here you are pushing me around, telling me if I hadn't been too absorbed in some ice cream I may not be in this situation."

"Well, seeing as how, I'm still in a working vehicle and your not, I guess I have the right to."

I let out a very unflattering snort and turned my attention towards the window. I wanted to pout. It felt foolish as hell but silence was all I could come up with after Dean's latest remark. I mean how are you supposed to respond to a man stuck with the reasoning of a five year old? The answer is you're not! I just sat back, trying desperately to fade away into the upholstery, hoping that I'd wake up soon. I was reaching my boiling point and I couldn't just let out all the frustration on him in case he did decide to toss me to the curb. Then where would I be?

"Dean?"

Sam stirred in the passenger seat. A translucent bib hung below his lower lip. He brushed it away with a tired swipe of his hand and leaned out of his seat for something. There was movement below the glove compartment. Papers shuffled and something thudded on the impala floor before Sam was sitting straight and proper in the seat once more. He shot me a reassuring smile and I nodded, not all that pleased with his older brother. Either it was those great Ms. Cleo skills Sam possessed or just the fact that he had the ability to care, whichever one it was, he picked up on my new bitter persona. His face wrinkled as he turned back around and glanced quickly towards Dean.

"Dean?"

"Not now Sam."

"Dean, I think we're all in need of a quick break. Can you pull the car over soon?"

"Awe Sammy, were making great time. Beating the traffic. You want to be stuck in traffic?"

What traffic? The highway was nearly deserted. I had to keep from kicking at the back of his seat.

"Dean, what traffic do you see? It's eight in the morning; we still have plenty of time. Besides, I'm sure Leah wouldn't mine washing up a bit."

Dean glanced at my reflection in the rearview mirror and gave an inaudible remark only dogs and Sam seemed to understand. The impala picked up speed in response. A dilapidated diner rose over the nearing hill. A few transports occupied the parking lot, while a green SUV continued to run. Our own vehicle soon took up residence next to the SUV.

I got out of the Chevy before Dean could say anything. I was already starting to pick up on his dry humour and insults, although most of them came out in the form of grunts and snorts, I was starting to wonder if Dean Winchester was less of a strikingly handsome man and more of a roll-in-the-mud-and-eat-garbage swine.

I caught his gaze as he opened the driver's side door with a determined jerking motion and nearly slammed it close. I say nearly, because God forbid if the cars feelings were accidentally hurt. He stopped, mid stride, facing the direction of the truck stop's doors and turned to face me. I stared him down, although the fidgeting of my hands on a loose string of sweater fabric I think gave away my over zealous confidence.

"What?"

Sam was holding the door open, standing a bit impatiently for Dean and me. I wracked my brain for a response to give the skilled hunter but nothing came to mind. Instead, I ignored the frown directed at me and shoved past him and into the awaiting restaurant.

The smell of stale coffee and cigarettes assaulted me. An older man, nearing his mid fifties, leered at me from the bar where he was polishing off his scrambled eggs. I scanned the dingy restaurant that promised its patrons 'Good ole country food. Just the way mum used to make' but from the looks of the unwashed counter tops and the mold in the corners of the ceiling; the only thing this place seemed to promise was food poisoning.

"Do we get a free stomach pump with every desert?"

Sam stifled a laugh.

"Look, you kids were the ones who wanted to stop for a while. Now this place isn't good enough?"

I looked back over my shoulder and caught Dean once again acting as the father in this little crusade of nonsense. I felt like I was nine years old again, listening to my dad rag on me for pinching my baby sister.

"It's fine. How bout you go find us a seat. I'll just be in the little girl's room."

Sam nodded and pulled his brother through the arrangement of teal plastic tables and booths. I on the other hand nearly rushed towards the bathroom, fearing what I would find staring back at me in the mirror. The door eased open. I stood uncertainly in the doorway, knowing it was childish but still no matter how much I tried to encourage myself, my legs wouldn't move.

A sound caught my attention. Voices, a dialogue, was going on on the other side of the door. Realization hit me that I was being a complete idiot about this and I walked in, head held high and proud. I felt like saying, I am Leah Carlson, hear me roar! Of course this thought soon faded and my confident stride faltered when I connected the voices to the people. I'm not sure who I was expecting to be in the ladies room, women of course, but not the mother and eight year old daughter. They were sharing a sink. The mother was applying a thin layer of lip chap, while the little girl had turned all the way around to stare at me. I felt like a kid who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Her eyes, although young and innocent, cut through me. The older woman, a pretty blonde in her mid thirties, noticed the silence and glanced behind her. She only watched her child for half a second before turning the attention back on me. I tried to force a grin but it barely stayed up.

"Good lord" she muttered and at that moment I wanted nothing more than to crawl into a dark corner and just die. It was a dramatic thought, but it seemed like the only logical one.

The mother snatched her daughters arm with such protectiveness and force that I wasn't all that surprised when the little girl winced. I realized what she must be thinking and made a move to step away from the doorway. I backed out, still facing the pair of blondes and then took a hesitant step forward. The moment my foot hit the dirty linoleum, the mother gasped and jerked her daughter to the side furthest from myself. She immediately followed the move, by placing herself directly in front of her. Her eyes were wide and her hands shook around the little girl's wrist. I half expected her to pull out a cross and slam it upside my temple screaming something like "the power of Christ compels you" and then dousing me in holy water or something along those lines. This never happened of course.

"You should be ashamed" her voice shook, startling me from the long drawn out silence that I'd grown accustom to. I sort of cocked my head to the side in response. I still wasn't sure what she thought was so wrong about me. Apart from the knotted hair, torn clothes and dry blood I was your average Canadian girl. Did she not like canucks?

"You people. You set bad examples for young girl and make the rest of us look bad. Some of us work hard for our money, while the rest of you just throw your body away and do absolutely nothing for yours. Nothing that in the eyes of God, would seem fitting. You should get a real job, instead of selling your self respect every night at truck stops."

The woman's speech ended there and with one last shudder which was either out of disgust or fear, she shoved her daughter along and exited into the hall. I cringed at what she'd said, although it wasn't true, I suddenly felt disgusted with myself.

"I guess that's one way to clear out a room" I mumbled trying my best to brush off the comment although it did absolutely nothing.

I stumbled forward, overcome with a sudden spell of dizziness. I grabbed hold the ceramic counter top and stared into the face of confusion and pain. My face. Whatever mascara I'd had on the night of the accident was crusted and smeared just below my bottom eyes. A deep purple bruise covered my right temple from where the ice cream had made contact with my head. I touched it lightly and gasped in spite of the agony I'd just caused. White hot pain coursed through my head and I stood, panting over the sink, feeling the pain through the rest of my body awake from its long sleep. My abdomen wasn't fairing any better than it had an hour before but it almost seemed worse now. I would ignore all the pain and discomfort for the time being. There was nothing that could be done. The trip ahead would be long and I knew the only possibility of getting patched up would be in a cheap hotel room hours from now.

I turned on the faucet and let the warm water run through my hands. I worked fast to scrub the blood off my body and to rinse out the lingering taste of vomit from my mouth. I combed my fingers through the frizzed mess on my head and managed to find an elastic in my pants. I formed a messy bun that only highlighted the bruise on my face but at least I didn't have the beginning of a very noticeable bad hair day on my hands.

Both Winchester brothers were caressing cups of coffee when I stepped out of the bathroom. I took a seat next to Sam, directly across from Dean. The shaggy hared man pushed a cup of orange juice in front of me and smiled.

"I figured you'd want something besides water and their juice seemed least likely to upset your stomach."

I took the glass and drank thankfully. It wasn't so bad and it did the trick of dispelling the vomit taste.

"That bruise looks pretty bad" Sam continued.

"I'm fine. It only hurts a little now" I lied, quickly sipping the juice once again.

Dean smirked from his little corner of the booth, obvious to my lie. He shook his head and leaned over the table.

"Looks like it hurts a bit more than that."

"Well it doesn't."

Without a word he reached forward and touched the purple skin just below my hairline. I hissed and pulled back in surprise, dropping the glass of juice on the table and watching as the rest of the orange liquid pooled over the edge and onto the floor.

"Dean!"

I ignored the scolding coming from Sam and got to my feet. I stepped over the spilled juice and made my way towards the exit.

"Leah!"

"I'm sorry Sam."

I quickened my pace and brushed roughly past an older waitress who appeared to be on her last legs. She stumbled but caught her balance on a nearby chair. I felt bad for being so rude, but I could care less really. This whole situation was getting ridiculous. I was a wreck. I really was. I felt like I was barely keeping it together.

I stepped into the fresh air and came close to collapsing as I made it to the curb. I sat down and felt my heart racing beneath my chest.

_What's happening to me? I never asked for this. All I wanted was Vancouver and my shitty apartment and lousy job. I didn't want to be stuck in Texas forever. This wasn't me._

The parking lot was blurring before my eyes. The gravel was tilting towards the sky. I wrapped my arms around my waist and stared out towards the highway. My heart beat faster.

_I thought of my cat, waiting at home for me. I thought of my mother and sister and my sick aunt that I never visited when I had the chance. I missed my boring life. My unpaid bills and even my greasy landlord._

I felt a cold sweat break out on my back. I could feel my body trembling slightly, although the weather outside wasn't all that cold. Not cold enough to make me shake. My brain vaguely processed this information, while the rest of my worrying thoughts continued to pool in.

_What if I never see home again? How am I supposed to live with these two men forever? Dean obviously hated me. Sam was only humouring me, it would be soon enough that they just dumped my sorry ass somewhere. And what about demons? I can't fight. I don't want to die. Why am I here? Why did this happen to me?_

I felt a tightening in my chest. A sharp pain shot through my body and spots started to block my blurring vision.

_Am I waking up? _

My heart beat faster and the sweat pooled down my face. Things were spinning out of control but all that didn't matter anymore. Soon the pain would end and I'd wake up in my own bed.

"Leah?"

A familiar voice filtered through the thoughts.

"Leah, look. I'm sorry if I hurt you in there."

Dean? Why was he here?

"I know I haven't been the nicest guy, that's usually Sam's job though." He laughed and I winced as the tightening increased. "So, I was thinking. How about a truce? Leah?"

I didn't answer. I was hearing him, but it sounded so far away. The images of the parking lot were cutting out like a bad television reception. Pain had spread everywhere and I was now noticing that I couldn't breathe. I was suffocating. Someone was suffocating me.

"Come on, Sammy will kill me if he comes out and your still fuming."

"Dean…"

I gasped the name in desperation and threw my head into my hands. There was the shuffling of feet and strong hands were tugging at my arms. I didn't have the strength to resist. I let him lift my head. Tears slithered down my pained face. I was gasping uncontrollably, body shaking in his grasp.

"Leah, calm down. Leah!"

I shook my head no.

"I…can't… breathe…"

I felt things going black and wanted so badly to succumb to the darkness. My eyes fluttered. A pain rattled me from thoughts. Dean's hand was hovering in the air and I noticed the new pain on the left side of my face.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing?" It was Sam. I heard him running yelling something about only asking him to apologize to me and not hit me.

"Sammy, shut it." Dean tightened his grip on my right arm. "Leah, listen to me. Calm yourself down now. You hear me?"

"I can't…"

"Yes you can. You're hyperventilating. You're doing this to yourself. Just breathe."

"Dean…" Sam's voice ventured but that was as much as Dean would allow.

"Leah, breathe. You have to get your heart under control. Come on now."

I tried to listen to what he was telling me. I held my breath, focusing on how quickly I should take it in. I shuddered and struggled the first few times, gasping and coughing once again.

"That's it, relax. Just breathe."

I felt the pain in my chest loosen and soon my body was almost still once again. I sucked in a few more uneasy breaths of air and looked uncertainly into Dean's eyes. For once they looked back into my own with concern and a look that I'd seen him give his younger brother in the car earlier that morning. I forced a smile and touched my throbbing cheek. I looked at him questioningly. He looked awkward under my scrutiny and since he'd just saved me from passing out I didn't bother to hold the look for too long. Dean was a good person after all. Who would have thought?

"Thanks" I croaked through the dying pain.

"No biggie. Can I buy you another orange juice?"

I scrunched my face and shook my head. "Don't bother. It wasn't good the first time around."

"Something tells me this isn't the first time Dean's heard that" Sam laughed.

Dean grunted with disapproval and pulled me to my feet.

"Kid's just jealous." He told me. I just smirked, letting myself follow quietly behind both Winchesters as we made our way towards the impala.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Once again, thank you, all you lovely little reviewers. You all help make this story happen, that and the never dying thoughts that keep me awake at three in the morning. I was on a role early this morning and it continued on into this afternoon. Lucky for you this chapter practically wrote itself. I'd like to thank my brain at this point of time for helping me write this and the inspiring Rolling Stones who played through my shitty computer speakers while I wrote. Lol. Anyway continue to read and hope you enjoy. This chappie has a bit more friendliness with Dean and Leah, a bit more sharp witted lines-I hope-, a few more questions that beg asking and that's about it. I'd also like to mention that a reviewer of mine brought up the trouble with Leah not really being a hunter and how she will ever get home and the entire Pastor Jim lie. Well don't worry, all this will play out soon enough. I wont rush anything but you'll find out all this in due time. And as a bit of a spoiler, the entire Leah being a hunter lie, will come back to bite her on the ass, just as most things do. Lol. So, whew that's a lot. Anywho, once again, lol enjoy and review!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own supernatural. But I do own Eric Kripke. Lol. Just don't tell him that.

**Crash Course**

**By: Babyhilts**

**Chapter 4:**

Meandering through racks of cheap clothing with a steadily growing headache was not my idea of a good time. Still there I was, pulling out pairs of jeans I thought only my mother owned. None of them were very flattering. They all sported those semi-elastic waistbands. I assumed the idea was that with an elastic waist women wouldn't have to buy belts. In theory that works, but that's just it, they're only theories and most of those are just wrong. Wrong just like the elastic mom jeans. Wrong like the neon pink fish net top. Wrong like every piece of clothing in the store.

Frustration was not very becoming of me. A sweat was starting above my upper lip and along the curve of my back. Two older women, who continued to shift their weight beside me, pushed their walkers further into the mess of clothing, reaching out greedily for the sweater that sported a bunch of kittens fighting over a ball of yarn. Part of me imagined diving in after them and pulling the precious shirt from their cold, wrinkled hands but it was only a thought. I watched instead as the more limber of the two grabbed hold of the blue sleeve and tugged it through a wall of t-shirts and jeans. Hangers and small shelving units toppled after it, hitting the ground with a series of metal thuds before spraying clothing in every direction. Unfortunately both women made it out safely. Had they not, then my time spent searching through the liquidation store would not have been a total waste.

Slung across sore arms were already two pairs of jeans, three plain t-shirts, a hooded sweater with a zipper, a package of socks-in bulk I might add-, a package of panties –also in bulk- that reminded me of the kiddie underwear I used to own when I was ten. Everything in the store appeared to be either tacky as hell or constructed to fit women who had no hips. For the first ten minutes it had been nothing but size zero's and ones. I nearly caught fire. I was cursing and kicking maliciously at the nearby display of recycled toilet paper-in bulk- and muttering phrases like 'What? Is this the Calista Flockhart clothing line I've stumbled upon?'

Eventually I calmed myself down enough to look past the return of bright spandex and the beaded shirts and managed to find the only few decent items of clothing. Before turning towards the counter, I grabbed one last pair of jeans and a loose fitting pair of sweatpants for when I went to sleep. I headed to the nearest exit and threw down the clothes, pulling out the forty dollar allowance given to me by Sam. He understood my need for clothes but not the need to ask Dean for it. I smirked and paid with the stolen cash. It wasn't as though Dean had worked very hard to earn it.

The store was just in the process of closing when I left. Outside the moon began to rise over the bruised clouds and settling dark. A motel room awaited me under half a mile down the highway. Dean hadn't offered to come pick me up after I was finished shopping, but I think that was only because Sam made it strictly clear that the longer his brother went without knowing we'd _borrowed _the hustled money, the better off we'd both be. Besides, I knew it wouldn't kill me to get in some much deserved exercise. It already looked highly suspicious that I was so chubby when I'd relayed a story to the boys about being this fancy hunter. If I hunted so often shouldn't I be as built as the two of them?

I walked all the way to the hotel without a single curse or thought of complaint. Actually, a part of my brain had begun to plan out this strict routine to help get me into shape. I'd have those luscious Janet Jackson abs I always wanted and the muscular calves of a marathon runner. It would take hard work, determination, but with a little effort…oh who was I kidding. I wouldn't bother going to all that trouble. For all I know, I'd be waking up soon anyway and then I'd have wasted all that time exercising. This waking up theory also brought about another problem. How would I get home? I figured sitting tight would be my best option because I couldn't just break through the fabric of reality and whatever the hell I was in. That would be impossible. I thought of calling up Michael Jay Fox and telling him of my predicament, then maybe he could let me borrow the time traveling DeLorean. That was only time travel though, not reality travel, if that even existed.

"Did you buy out the entire store?"

The door to our hotel room was standing in front of me, closed. I hadn't noticed that I'd even stepped across the blacktop of the parking lot. Dean was leaning casually a few feet from me. A leather jacket hung loosely off his well built frame. In the growing shadows of the door I let my eyes wander down the length of his body. For the first time since he'd rescued me from my dearly departed Jetta I checked him out. The strong chest, the thick muscular arms, the lopsided grin. What I wouldn't let him do to me. He'd managed to come across a bit more gentleman like after I nearly hyperventilated from the repeated abuse but I still noticed he never gave me that look that I'd seen him shoot so many women on the television show.

He stepped into the shadows catching me off guard. I could almost hear the smirk in his voice as he leaned down and whispered in my ear. My brain didn't acknowledge the words he was saying only the hot breath dispersing along the nape of my neck. Shivering like that nervous girl in high school, I held in the blush that dared stain my cheeks. Get your head in the game Leah. This is no time to go all Dawson's Creek.

"…bar would be more than adequate to suite our needs."

Oh, Dean, if you only knew of my needs, I moaned inside myself. Never did I let myself think such thoughts, but this was Dean Winchester. It may not have been the right person, but little did he know of the many fantasies of mine his body had appeared in.

"What do you say we let geek boy be alone with his laptop?"

Was he taking me out? To the bar, but still, taking me out, none the less. You'd have tp have no libido to turn down any Winchester.

"First round's on you?"

He laughed and laced his arm around mine. My heart fluttered childishly but I kept my cool. I think. Dean pulled me out of the shadows and towards the Impala.

"You're getting a little cocky, you know that?"

"Shouldn't have spilt my orange juice"

"You spilt it!"

"Well, you encouraged me to spill it."

"I encourage a lot of things sweetheart."

He was encouraging a lot of things in me that was for damn sure. I stopped a foot from the impala and dropped my bag of clothes on the asphalt. Dean looked at me with a glare and kicked the plastic off his foot. I only smiled. I reached into the sack and pushed around the pile of clothes until I came across a pair of jeans and a light pink t-shirt. It was nothing fancy, but it was better than wearing the over sized sweater Sam had leant me.

"Turn around" I told him, doing the universal finger gesture. His eyes gleamed and I could almost see the ideas running through his head. "Don't be a hormonal teenager Dean. I need to get changed."

"Then get changed."

"Don't look." A sigh floated to my ears and he turned his back to me. I grabbed the back door of the impala and went to climb in. The sound of scraping metal must have reached Dean. He spun on his heel and raced to my side, nearly jerking me out of mid climb.

"Not in my car."

"What?" I was shaking out sheer surprise at how fast he could move. He ran a hand gracefully over the top of the impala and closed the back door.

"You're not climbing all over the back seats to get changed. Just…go behind a bush or something."

I searched the parking lot.

"What bushes do you see genius? There are only cars."

"Nice observation hun. Pick one, and change behind it."

"You can't be serious."

"Just stand behind the impala. I won't look, okay?"

I nodded and scooped up my clothes, dragging the plastic sack with me. I quickly shredded my stained jeans and panties and slipped on a new pair of both. I looked up and saw only Dean's back, so I continued to get changed. I grunted angrily when I took off Sam's sweater and realized I hadn't bothered to buy any new bras. I would have to wear the one I still had on, because the pink t-shirt would be tight enough to accentuate some things I wouldn't like Dean to notice, out of sheer embarrassment. I wasn't embarrassed of them, but the mere situation I pictured in my mind was. Once I finished changing I tossed the clothes back into the bag and tossed it on the back floor of the impala.

"Ready?"

"Always."

_He came to town like a midwinter storm  
He rode through the fields so hansome and strong  
His eyes was his tools and his smile was his gun  
But all he had come for was having some fun _

If it hadn't been...  
If it hadn't been...

A swarm of country music and open bottles of alcohol consumed us the minute we stepped through the wooden doors. The tavern wasn't much but it was certainly the place to be on a Thursday night in the middle of nowhere. The parking lot had been full but inside it was nearly impossible to move around.

_He brought disaster wherever he went  
The hearts of the girls was to hell broken sent  
They all ran away so nobody would know  
and left only men cause of Cotton-Eye Joe _

If it hadn't been...  
If it had't been...

The song playing through the tavern finally connected with my brain and I smiled at the warm feeling of nostalgia it inspired within me. Cotton Eye Joe played from the worn Jukebox in the corner. Before I'd ever assumed the high life of living in Vancouver, I used to reside in the boonies of Northern Ontario, where every night was a party and every song that spilled through the stereo speakers was either classic rock or country. Cotton Eye Joe was the unofficial anthem. I remembered the night before I was to leave for Vancouver and getting up on my sister's coffee table, drunk on wine, and just dancing until the heels of my leather cow boots had scuffed the wood to death.

"If this doesn't just scream redneck" Dean laughed over the last few chords of the song.

"Yeah, all were missing is a banjo and maybe a mechanical bull."

Unconsciously I grabbed hold of Dean's forearm and let myself drag behind him as he pushed through the large crowd. We made it to the bar without any injury, which was more than I'd expected. The group of people that continuously filed in and out of the bar was wild. Those already drunk, would jump and sway dangerously in the middle of the room, while the rest just seemed to float aimlessly.

I leaned against the bar, scooting a rather petite brunette a few feet away so that there'd be room for Dean. He smiled and took the offered spot, but his eyes soon drifted to the girl I had just recently shoved aside. If jealousy were stock, mine had just skyrocketed. I felt the need to scream or slap Dean to attention but I just continued standing stock still. His attention moved back over to me and I smiled. I had won this time.

"What did you want?"

Dean was already reaching for the beer he'd ordered but I was feeling a little adventurous this evening.

"A shot of tequila."

"What, you don't want to ease into it? Maybe with a wine cooler or a…"

"Just pay for the shot Winchester."

He smirked.

"I knew there was a reason for why I pulled you from that car." He turned to the bartender. "Get the lady her Tequila my good sir."

The man behind the bar, with the stained apron and unshaved face was quick to oblige. A shot glass slid across the ceramic top and soon it was filled with one of my most hated enemies. Tequila. I hated it. Yet there it was, ready to be consumed by me once again. If it didn't taste so awful than maybe I could make an exception, but usually all my taste buds were burnt from my tongue by the third shot, therefore, my love for Tequila soon followed after.

I listened not all that interested in what Dean was saying and downed my shot. He smirked at the grimace that bore across my features.

"Don't you say anything." I coughed, feeling the shot catch up with me. "You just drink your nice safe beer."

"Oh, honey, I'm just getting started."

I ordered another shot but held the glass for much longer. The taste of death was still fresh in my mouth.

"So, you and Sam stole my money, huh?"

"Yeah, so?"

"And that's the best outfit you bought?"

I downed my shot. This was going to be a long night.

"Yeah, well the sales clerk said we just missed their sale on Gucci sweaters by a few days. God, what do you think? It was an outlet store smack dab in the middle of Hick Central."

"Ah, touché."

As the night progressed so did our drinking. Dean had finished his beer and soon switched over to the Tequila. We decided that it would be a good idea to just invest our money into a bottle- and by our money, I mean his, so it was a good idea-. The bartender didn't object and donated the shot glasses while we continued our fun. Dean was not feeling it as much as I was. After the third shot I already felt the pull of gravity as if somehow during the last fifteen minutes, everything was weighing me down. By the fourth shot I started in with the giggles and told a funny anecdote to the stranger next to me about a dog and a parakeet. I'm not sure what was so funny about it, but the two of us laughed by the end and I offered him a shot of our tequila. Dean was holding tight to the bar and I followed his lead, noticing how rubbery my legs were becoming.

I reached for my fifth shot with shaking hands and drew the glass to my lips. Dean caught my hand arm mid way and shook his head. What was he doing? He was in no position to tell me when to stop. I mean, he was drunk too.

"You've had enough Leah."

I laughed out loud and shoved him slightly.

"You cutting me off, Mr. hunter man?"

He smiled and nodded.

"I'll fight you for it" I cackled and placed the shot on the bar. Dean didn't respond. "Come on, I'll fight you for it. See, who the better hunter is."

Dean shushed me and I vaguely remembered that I couldn't fight. That I wasn't a hunter. This didn't seem too important and the logical part of my brain disappeared behind the fog of tequila induced reasoning.

"Come on, lets go. Lets go" I encouraged, shifting from foot to foot, just as the boxers would do. "Come on. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee."

"Leah…"

I hummed Eye of the Tiger for a few seconds, taking air punches near Dean's head, before I realized I'd thrown myself at his chest. With the recent shots of tequila and my sudden weight bearing down on him, Dean toppled backwards. I laughed, not even caring when he pushed me from off his chest and stood me back up. Hard as he tried, Dean was laughing too and placed the shot in my hands.

"Last one Rocky Balboa."

I grinned and took my last shot and the moment it was down, I regretted it. Perhaps Dean shouldn't have given in so easily. I knew immediately that the sensation in my stomach would mean eventually getting sick. I could feel the sloshing around of the burning liquid and cringed, letting the thought disappear. I would worry about that tomorrow, I thought drunkenly and pushed past Dean.

"Where you going?"

"Ugh, the jukebox. Got a quarter?"

Dean fished through his jeans and handed me the silver coin. I grinned and stumbled towards the glowing box across the room. A few people bumped into me, one sent me sprawling on my knees, while at the same moment someone lost their footing and found it again on my unprotected hand. I cried out and got to my feet in a hurry. The pain sobered me up a bit. I found the jukebox and searched through the records. Lots of it was country, nothing too exciting. The song playing at the moment was country, but I needed something better. Something not quite so, Dukes of Hazard. I finally settled on The Steve Miller Band and put in the quarter to play Space Cowboy. I sang and stumbled all the way back to the bar.

"Dean…"I slurred and balanced myself against the bar. But the space that had been once occupied by the blonde, hazel eyed hunter was now being replaced by a large Shrek like man. I turned and searched the room wildly. The crowd had thinned out only slightly and I still could barely make out any one person from the other.

"Dean!"

Panic set in. I'm not sure why, but it was there. The tequila was taking its toll. I nearly face planted with the floor when I heard a woman chuckle next to me. When I looked up there he was. Dean Winchester, liar, drunkard, pursuer of women, with that same brunette hanging off his every quip. I went to reach for the Tequila bottle, because I would need something to smash over his head, but then suddenly there it was, in his hands and that brunette was taking a drink from it. It was our tequila bottle, I wanted to cry out, but somewhere through my drunken haze, independent Leah told me to get over it and move on.

"Dean!" I shouted over the song, still playing on the jukebox. I wasn't enjoying it anymore. "I'm heading back."

"Sure, just don't take the car. I might need it after" he smirked and made the quick gesture to the brunette. She shot me a winning smile. You no, the one that's usually followed with "nah nah, nah nah nah."

"Sexually driven asshole, thinks he can't ditch me for that anorexic hoe" I muttered while shuffling angrily through the bodies of hillbillies and truckers. "Those breasts probably weren't even real. No one that tiny can be that busty."

Without the impala it would be a bit of a walk back to the hotel, but I seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. It was just down the highway and over the hill, if I remembered right. I struggled the entire way, doing my best to keep upright enough so as not to walk into any oncoming traffic. The highway was quiet. Darkness surrounded me and the nearby fields. Stars lay strewn across the black tapestry above. It was the first time in a while that I was able to see all of them. I watched, still walking, but with my head pointed upwards, just gazing at the twinkling white orbs.

The hotel appeared in my line of sight and a little while later; I ended up on my knees in the ditch across from the parking lot. I'd known this was coming. I didn't fight the churning of my stomach or the vomit that soon free flowed from my mouth. My lips quivered when it was all over. Tears trickled down my face. I got to my feet and crossed the highway. Once I reached the run down building, it soon dawned on me I didn't remember which room we were in. I stood, hands on my hips, sighing loudly, while playing my eyes across each door. I could knock on each one until Sam eventually answered, but that was just stupid. I took a seat instead on the curb and then lied down on my back, just watching the stars.

"She's pretty as a daisy. But look out man she's crazy. She'll really do you in. If you let her get under your skin." What began as a familiar hum deep within my chest soon transformed into an old classic that I vaguely remembered the lyrics to. At the moment it didn't matter to me. I opened my mouth wide and sang loud and proud.

"Poison ivy, poison ivy. Well late at night when you're sleeping. Poison ivy comes a creeping all around"

I laughed harshly as the words rang out through the silent parking lot.

"You're gonna need an ocean, of calamine lotion. You'll be scratching like a hound, the minute you start to mess around."

Some man was shouting at the other end of the hotel. Jeez, he sounded mad. A door opened behind me and a soft voice laced with sleep disrupted me from my singing. I looked up and found a shaggy haired boy peering down at me. I grinned and in a quiet whisper said;

"Poison ivy, poison ivy. Well late at night when you're sleeping. Poison ivy comes a creeping all around"

"Leah?"

"La la la la. La la la la"

Sam took a seat next to me on the curb and helped sit me up. The parking lot swayed a moment, or perhaps it was me, I wasn't sure anymore. Something about him sitting there seemed to sober me up a bit more and I turned an embarrassed face towards him. He smiled and brushed away the stray hair from my eyes.

"Where have you been? Where's Dean?"

I clenched my teeth and grounded out "Bar" and pointed lazily down the highway. Sam nodded in understanding.

"Where did you come from."

"Bar."

"Same one as Dean? What, were his lips glued to a beer bottle or something? He couldn't walk you back."

"More like a brunette in leather."

"Oh, alright that makes more sense. Don't worry, he'll hear about it in the morning."

I smiled. I really could get used to Sam. The bad boys were sexy and desirable, but the nice ones, where the ones you took home to meet your mother. I let the younger man half carry me into the room and set me on a bed. A wave of fatigue washed over me as my body made contact with the soft mattress. Sam pulled off my Velcro sandals and let them fall to the floor before tucking a sheet around me. I mumbled my thanks. He laughed saying something about Dean having to sleep on the floor, but I wasn't listening anymore. Darkness was coming in fast, a reassuring darkness that I let take me away from the hotel room.

I startled awake. It felt as though I'd just fallen asleep only half a second before. My body still felt drained of all its resources and I wanted nothing more than to roll over and pull the sheets above my head and sleep some more. The problem was, I wasn't lying down. I was standing, leaning mostly. It was bright where I was. My eyes were shut, I kept them that way on purpose because the brightness stung. There were rushed voices. Scattered footsteps moved in and out of the room. I felt in the way of something and a bad feeling was filing into my stomach. I groaned and prepared myself for what awaited me once I opened my eyes.

White. That was the first thing I noticed. Just a very bright shade of white and it was everywhere and all consuming. I felt as though I were apart of the white until something else, not quite as white, caught hold of my wandering gaze. A bed. Tubes. Machines. The room buzzed with life and death and the rush of it all. I choked on the taste of latex and antibacterial soaps. I was in a hospital.

"Nurse, go get the sister."

I snapped to attention. A man, no more than thirty five held a chart and wore a bleak look on his face. He looked directly at me. No. Past me.

"Yes doctor."

Doctor? This was a hospital. Oh, my god, were Sam and Dean hurt? How did I get here so fast? Where were they? What was…

The nurse scooted out of the room, her shoes squeaking unprofessionally against the linoleum with every step. Cautiously I moved away from my spot against the wall, slowly standing next to the doctor. A door eased open from my left. I went to follow the sound and yet I was stopped. A bed, consumed in blue sheets and wires and tubes tore me away from the sound. Blonde curls, pooled around a pale, heart shaped face. A few freckles appeared on the pasty skin. There were harsh purple splotches, most likely bruises, which consumed the right side of the woman's face and uncovered arms. There was a bandage, made of thick white that wrapped a few times around her head, pressing the blonde locks up in awkward angles. Her chest rose and fell, but only because of the tube in her throat. A machine beeped quietly next to the bed.

I felt my legs weaken as I reached to the still figure.

"Oh, my god" someone cried and the doctor drifted towards the sound. "Oh, no! Leah, honey."

Tears rose up in my eyes, blurring my vision as I felt that tightening in my chest return. I recognized that voice and I recognized that person in the bed. I looked up and through the rising tears watched as Caitlyn-my baby sister- rushed to the bed. She picked up the lifeless hand with caution as to not pull out any wires or do anymore damage.

"You are the victim's sister, I take it?"

Caitlyn nodded soberly. I watched her and then myself, laying unconscious, breathing with the help of a machine. What the hell was this? Was I a ghost now too?

"Were you informed of what took place early this morning?"

"No." She was struggling to speak. I could tell by the tone of her voice. It was the same voice she'd used when I told her I was moving to Vancouver. A few months later, she'd joined me. "They said it was a car accident?"

"Yes. There were no internal injuries. A few minor cuts and bruises along her arms and more severe bruising around the abdomen…"

I zoned out whatever else the doctor had to tell my kid sister. I was still too shocked at what I was looking at. I wanted to hug Caitlyn and tell her I was standing right there, but I doubt that would help the situation and probably make it worse. I mean, how do you explain that you're now the incarnated version of Casper. Besides I didn't even know what I was anymore. Except unconscious that I was certain of.

"Ms. Carlson is in a coma right now. The damage taken to her right temple could mean some future problems, but none that you should worry yourself with at the moment."

"What sort of problems?"

"We can't be quite sure until your sister wakes up. It could be she just has a minor bump to the head or it could mean something more serious."

"Such as?"

The doctor sighed. "Such as memory loss, amnesia, possible brain damage…"

"Brain damage" the words cracked as Caitlyn's legs gave out. The doctor seemed prepared and caught her before she hit the ground. I stumbled back from the scene and let the tears continue to fall.

"There is nothing you can do for your sister at the moment. The only thing that can help her now is time. She will need time to heal and to wake up from all of this. The sleep she is in now is a light coma that I am certain will be over within the coming days. Until then, we can keep you posted on her condition and you are more than welcome to visit her…"

Out of nowhere a voice cried out. It was a harsh screaming sound that shook through the whole room but no one seemed to notice it. Then I realized it was me who was screaming. No one turned and I just kept on screaming until my lungs hurt too much. I screamed for help, for Caitlyn to stay with me despite what the doctor was telling her. I screamed obscenities and then my voice finally died out.

I took a seat in the corner of the room as another feeling of fatigue took hold of my body. My eyes fluttered and dark spots darted across my vision. Caitlyn stayed in the room, running comforting circles across my bruised arm and brushing my bangs off my face. She sobbed and I watched her until unconsciousness finally came to claim me.

"Caitlyn!" I cried out and shot up off the ground.

A cool breeze took me by surprise and I searched wildly about myself, looking for the hospital room. Was it all a dream? My heart thudded in my chest and I soon realized I wasn't in the hospital room anymore. But I wasn't in the hotel room either. I was in the parking lot, standing barefoot, next to a grey sedan that I didn't recognize. It was the same hotel as the night before, the same scenery, but I couldn't remember ever stepping outside.

"How did I get here?"

Suddenly, all the fears and questions I'd had, had increased ten notches during the night.

**Author's Note-Part 2-:** Okay, so hope that wasn't stupid or anything. Had to end it there and you'll soon find out what's going on. Not sure when the next chappie will be up but bear with me. I just tore through the longest muse and now I'm pooped. The song Leah sings in this chappie is called "Poison Ivy" and the computer says its by the Rolling Stones but the version I have downloaded is by The Coasters so I apologize, I'm not sure whose it was first. It's a real oldie and if you can listen to it. Lol. Okay, that's it. Hope you all enjoyed this chappie. I had lots of fun writing it and please kiddies review. :D


	5. Chapter 5 & 6

**Author's Note**: **_Awe, you guys. tears up You've really made my week with all these wonderful reviews. I have this story on here and Supernatural.tv and together you guys helped to inspire another chappie outta me. Glad to know everyone is still loving this and that Leah has been accepted. Well, hope you enjoy this next chappie, things will be getting a bit more crazy as we go along, so hold on tight and try to keep up. As always review when you're done, just so I know you all still love me. LOL._**

**Disclaimer:** **_Today I don't own Supernatural. Tomorrow? I won't either, but maybe by next week…_**

**Chapter 5:**

The shower head hummed with the pressure of falling water. Hot, scalding water, that loosened my tense muscles but did nothing for the increasing fear. My stomach had not stopped lurching forward every time I thought back to the hospital. Or how about waking up in the parking lot? I kept my head beneath the onslaught of trickling translucent drops and moaned, while letting quiet sobs fade into the thudding sound echoing off the ceramic tub. I wasn't sure why I was crying, I mean, the most logical explanation for what happened would be that I'd had a bad dream. Some subconscious part of my brain was probably missing home and Caitlyn and together with the combination of tequila shots, I sleep walked out of the hotel and had a nightmare on the parking lot floor. That was it. Case closed. No unsolved mystery, no nothing. It was just a very strange dream that once I gathered up enough money, would only ever be told to a well practiced psychiatrist.

The theory I'd created in my mind, during the last fifteen minutes of hiding in the shower was all good and well, but as usual didn't fit the reality of what was going on. When I'd gathered my bearings and decided to go back to the room earlier that morning, the hotel door had been locked. Makes sense, what with all the crazies running a-muck, but not much sense towards what I was thinking. If I'd really stumbled out of the hotel in a drunken stupor, would I really have had enough brains to first off find the room key and secondly, to lock the door once I left? There wasn't any need to answer. The clues made it clear enough. I had never walked out of the room. I'd never left the bed on my own. Something must have physically removed me from there and placed me outside. Sam wouldn't do it. Dean hadn't gotten back yet, so that ruled him out as well. So then, what the hell happened to me last night? Where did I go? Was I really at a hospital? Was this me right now, in the shower, was she not really me? Was the real me in a hospital bed in a coma? If I died here, would I die there too?

A sharp rapping sound stole me from my thoughts. I shook out of surprise and pulled myself away from the spray of water. It was cold now anyway. Whispering and muffled voices beckoned from behind the wooden door and then…more rapping. Louder and more urgent it sounded and seemed to also reverberate through my head. I massaged my temples, trying to encourage the growing hangover away, but it was useless. I shut off the shower taps and grabbed a towel from off the rack.

"You gonna be in there all day?" Dean's voice shouted through the cracks in the door. I sighed and dried off half fast, so that as I pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a shirt, the clothes stuck to my dampened body. I grimaced and promised myself to ignore the older man for a while for making me so uncomfortable.

"Just a minute princess. Don't get your panties in a bunch."

Dean cursed and the sound of retreating footsteps followed. Moody hunter with a twist of a hangover, just the way I liked my men in the morning.

I wiped away the condensation that had build up on the mirror. Dark, dampened blonde hair, staining the shoulder of my t-shirt stared back at me. I looked pretty rough this morning. Semi grey circles rested below green eyes. The bruise was still there but the cut was healing nicely. At least I had that going for me. Amidst the growing chaos at least I knew I wouldn't have some awful scar.

Dean was standing just outside the bathroom when I opened the door. He mumbled an 'about time' and pushed past my lingering form before slamming the door behind himself with a resounding thud. Sam looked up from his duffel bag. He was packing. Were we leaving that fast? I hadn't even seen this town in the daylight.

"Sam?"

"He doesn't mean to be so prick-like, it's just the hangover and everything that's going on. Don't take it to heart."

I was a bit stunned. The last thing I wanted was to take anything Dean did to heart. Of course I was going to be upset after the way he ditched me the night before. Any self respecting woman would have cursed herself blue in the face at the way he'd treated me but it was over and done with. He probably didn't even remember it and besides, she was just some bony tramp that we'd be leaving behind. A week from now she would be completely erased from his mind and who would be there in the impala? Moi. Miss Leah Carlson, queen of Tequila shots and master of the Exorcist impression. Who wouldn't love that?

"Oh, trust me Sam. I'm not taking anything your brother says or does to heart."

It was the truth. Sam only nodded and forced a smile, on that said 'okay, whatever gets you through the day' sort of smile. One that let me know that for some reason he was buying what I'd just told him. It was the truth! Wasn't it? I couldn't care less what Dean did. He was a grown man. If he wanted to be a jerk, than he was free to do as he wished. Why was Sam so concerned about my feelings getting stomped on? It wasn't his job to look out for everyone, but there he was, trying to make it his job. No wonder he was always brooding about.

"Sam, I'm telling you the truth here."

I couldn't help but try to defend myself.

Sam tossed one last pair of jeans into the duffel bag he was packing and slung it over his shoulders. I followed him almost instinctively as together we made our way out of the hotel and towards the impala.

"I believe you."

"Do you?"

Sam laughed and looked at me over his shoulder. "Yes, I do."

"Good."

The duffel bag was flung into the back seat of the Chevy. I watched as Sam stepped across the hot black top and grabbed a map from out of the glove compartment. Wrinkled paper, decorated in multicolored lines and symbols, with names etched in and places circled, spread across the hood of black car. Sam leaned over the map, smoothing the creases from the paper while he let his eyes wander over the towns.

"Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are we leaving so soon? I mean what's going on?"

Sam never lifted his head. He was too focused. His eyes hardened a moment and a cold look fell across the brown irises. I didn't want to push him but I also didn't want to be left in the dark. It had been that way for the first few hours since they'd found me in the wreckage of my Jetta and those had been the longest hours of my life.

"Dean got a phone call."

"Okay, I'm going to need a little more than that."

Sam looked up from the map and stared down at me.

"It was our dad Leah. We haven't spoken to him since…well, since we went our separate ways three months ago. He left us a set of coordinates and now Dean and I are expected to drive across the U.S. and figure out what the hell is going on."

It surprised me how fast Sam's voice could go from, sweet caring boy next door, to coldhearted, ruffian in only a matter of seconds. In all the time I'd spent with the boys, I'd completely forgotten about John. He was alive, the phone call clued me into that fact, but what had Sam meant about three months ago? I wouldn't dare ask the question right then and instead place it in a folder in the back of my brain, to ask on a more, suitable occasion. Three months ago was a long time. Obviously Sam wasn't too happy about whatever had happened. John never seemed to be a safe subject with the youngest Winchester.

Thinking back to my episode knowledge, the last time I'd seen John with his boys had been…oh, god. The season finale. It was as though that entire grain of knowledge has been erased from my memory. They'd been in that car accident. The demon. All that blood.

I looked over to Sam who still hovered over the map, searching intently for some unknown location. There was a bit of scaring just below his hairline, but other than that he seemed fine. Dean had seem fine. How could I have completely ignored the fact that they'd almost died. Was that what Sam meant by three months ago? From what I knew of John Winchester, I was starting to get the impression that he'd abandoned his sons. Perhaps on a whim to save them from the future danger his mission of vengeance might impose on them. If this were true, then why was he sending them coordinates?

My mind reeled with this new information and if it weren't for the sudden appearance of Dean, than I'm sure it would have overheated and gone into combustion-mode.

"You find out where we need to go next?"

Dean circled around the impala and tossed his own duffel bag into the back. Sam folded the map and placed it into his coat pocket. I stood and watched. Not too sure what to do. So far I'd been winging this whole, tag along with the Winchester ride, but now this was getting serious. John was sending coordinates, Dean and Sam were packing to follow them and there I was, a pathetic woman, whose only expertise lied in putting her foot in her mouth.

"Yeah, Stull, Kansas."

"Stull? You sure about that?"

Sam heaved a sigh of frustration. "You wanna take a look at the map?"

"No."

"Then that's where Dad is sending us."

Sam reluctantly got into the car. He didn't say anything, he let the slamming of the door do all the talking for him.

"Hey, you want to be a bit more careful there!"

Dean cursed under his breath. I was about to follow Sam's lead, my hand was hanging mid air, inches from the door handle when Dean snapped his head around. I dropped my hand. Something about the hunter frightened me. He had this menacing look on his face. I felt my heart race and a sweat broke out on my back. For once I was at a loss of words.

"You didn't stick around last night."

"Yeah, well, five tequila shots and a skinny brunette later, you know, that basically wraps up the night for me."

I couldn't believe Dean was bringing this shit up. Now, with him and Sam fighting and another hunt, he figured he could just bring this up. It surprised me to say the least. I mean the past few days, I'd been getting the impression, Dean had no soul.

"About that…" Dean ran callused fingers against the back of his neck. He stood there awkwardly for a moment and at a glance, I swore I caught a look of guilt wash across his face. If there was any guilt, it didn't last long. Immediately Dean forced a rough grunt, lowered his fidgeting hands and glared at me. "You should have waited."

I stumbled back. "Waited for what? For you and Suzie Slim to have a quickie in the back of your car?"

"Do you like arguing with me or something? Jesus, I would have walked you home. You should have known better. Someone could have picked you up or, well just about fucking anything could have happened. For someone whose supposed to be a trained hunter your not too bright."

"Well, that makes two of us then, doesn't it? Besides, you didn't seem too concerned last night."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't made a mad dash for the door."

"Oh, is that what I did? God, you're unbelievable you know that?"

"Guys!"

Dean and I turned at the sound. Sam was standing hanging out the passenger side door, waving us impatiently to get into the impala. I shot Dean a disgusted look and before he could get out another scolding, I walked around the back of the impala and took a seat behind where Sam was sitting.

"Dean, get in here. We've got a lot of driving to do before we reach Stull and I'd like to get most of it done today."

No one answered. The car shook with added weight as both brothers took up residence in the front seats. Car doors slamming echoed through the parking lot. I sighed and leaned my head painfully against the window. The engine purred to life and with a sharp turn, Dean had us on the highway, heading towards Stull, Kansas. The tap deck soon followed, playing another worn out AC DC song, that neither Sam or I really cared to listen to, but at least it drowned out any ideas for further arguing. It was going to be a long ride to Stull, I just knew it.

Author's Note: Okay, it is really get late here in the Great White North, and I've got school in the morning. Bleh, but anywho, here is another chappie. It's a bit longer than the first one I put out today and hopefully just as good. I hope the bit of dialogue between Dean and Leah near the end isn't too out there or unrealistic but I'm just getting the plot moving and there were a few things I realized that were going be some problems that I had to fix. Hope you all enjoy and although the end of this story won't be for a little while, I've just had a few more ideas about how to end it. So far, I'm debating the happy everything is pretty much fine, Walt Disney ending. Or the sad, yet almost bittersweet one that leaves you a little mad but has the hopes of including a sequel. I'm not sure which one to pick as of yet, but I just felt I should put that out there and see which one you guys would rather read. Doesn't mean I'll pick it, lol, but just to get a bit of what you guys want. So, come on, tell me. Oh, and enjoy the chappie. :D

**Chapter 6:**

The engine died. Dean was asleep in the passenger seat. Four hours into our drive Sam and him had switched positions. In doing so the music had faded back into the tape deck and silence had reigned supreme in the impala for the past two hours. I found myself dozing off now and then. I made short, pointless conversation with Sam and that was as much excitement I'd had all day. You can probably imagine how grateful I was when we finally drew to a stop at a deserted gas station.

I stirred from my light sleep, looked around myself and spotted Sam closing the driver side door quietly. Dean slept soundly. I decided it would be best if he continued to stay that way. No use waking up the sleeping lion.

I unbuckled myself from the seat and slowly and quietly emerged from the back seat. It didn't take too long until I'd caught up with Sam. He was almost at the entrance of the gas station when I took hold of his elbow.

"Hey" Sam looked around as if he expected to see Dean only a few feet away. I shook my head.

"Dean's still snoring away. I didn't have the heart to wake him."

"Or you just didn't want to have a repeat of earlier?"

I smiled. "Both?"

The entry bell chimed. A clerk sitting behind the counter inside snapped his head up at the sound and shot a look at us. Sam went to work on getting a few essentials for the next six daunting hours on the road. The essentials being chips, candy bars, cola and those moldy week old sandwiches that places like these try to pass off as fresh. After a few minutes of browsing, Sam already had an armload of supplies and still mentioned that we had to get gas.

"I doubt Dean will want to stop much. He's always hell bent on pushing himself to the limits when dad sends us coordinates."

"So, no hotel then?"

"Not right away. I'd say later on tonight is when we'll check in. Can't have ourselves worn out when we reach Stull."

Snack food groceries fell across the truck stop counters. Sam looked relieved to have the weight gone. He was searching for his wallet when I asked the clerk behind the counter for a key to their bathroom. It took a bit of convincing that I wasn't going to do anything more than pee before he reluctantly handed over the chain and silver object. I'd worked in a Wall-Mart once, cleaning bathrooms was one of the more sophisticated jobs, so I knew what the hesitancy was about. Women were slobs when it came to bathroom time and I'm sure he was thinking I'd probably go all Animal Kingdom in there.

"It's around back near the Pepsi machine."

Sam told me he'd be a while longer with the food and getting gas, so I could take all the time I needed. I smiled, gave a nod and scurried as fast as my short legs could take me towards the back. Of course I chose the wise course and didn't start to run until after I was out of Sam's line of site, but after sitting in a car for six hours and drinking three cups of coffee, ones need to pee is very high.

The door to the bathroom was right where the clerk said it would be. He just happened to leave out the fact that there was a corpse hiding somewhere beneath the tiled walls. Okay, so maybe there weren't any corpses but it sure smelt as if there should be. Enclosed in that small space for any period of time with the door close meant either death or catching some time of venereal disease. There should have been a sign posted on the door reading 'Enter at your own risk.'

After a bit of debating, I decided that choosing to go the bathroom here would be better than getting Sam to pull over on the highway so that I could do the job behind some brush.

I took the first step across the muddy floors. Sucking sounds arose from beneath my sandals every time my foot struggled and lifted off the floor. The same disgusting sounds you can hear in an empty theatre, I cringed. I shut the door, and breathed through my mouth. The toilet itself wasn't all that filthy but just for good measure I pulled out handfuls of the cheap toilet paper, wiped the seat cover briefly and then created my own seat on top of the real one out of the cottony fabric.

"Sam must be nearly finished by now" I muttered.

Pulling my hair back into a tight ponytail, I straightened out my shirt and let myself out of the bathroom. Outside, light blinded me for a moment. I felt disoriented in the fresh air. With a stumble forward, I clung to the bathroom key and squinted through the sun's harsh rays, trying to point myself in the right direction. It was useless. After waiting a while longer my eyes still didn't seem to adjust. The light only got brighter and more painful. Pain shouldn't be seeping in to this equation.

White light exploded behind my eyes. Out of nowhere I felt an invisible hand cover my mouth. I opened my eyes in a panic and tried to see through the thick sunlight but all I got were blurred images of fading blacktop and burnt fields. My eyes closed. The hand fell away from my mouth and pushed on the walls of my chest. The impact shoved me a foot back. I reached out blindly trying to prevent the next attack but it was to no avail. Once more, twice. The hand continued to push deep upon my chest, knocking the air from my lungs. One final compression and I was shoved backwards into the Pepsi machine.

Slowly I felt myself tire. Without knowing so, I crumpled to the baking asphalt below. The heat that emanated from the ground was burning my face something awful, but I couldn't move. Cans of pop rattled behind me in the machine. The hand clamped over my mouth once more and I felt myself flying, high above the gas station, over the impala and then, into utter darkness.

The darkness replaced the fatigue and pain, but did nothing to console my worry. I tried to hold tight to something stable, anything I could latch my hands on, but there was nothing but empty, black space. I opened my eyes and still nothing appeared.

"Remember my first date?"

A familiar voice called out through the darkness. I so desperately wanted to call back but the ability to form words had somehow been stolen from me.

"We argued for hours because you said Danny McDougal was a grease ball and I told you he was the sweetest guy I'd ever met."

Something was coming into focus. Slowly but surely there was the hospital room I'd visited the night before. The minute the room was clear enough to view; I grabbed hold of a nearby chair and took a seat before I got sick. Nausea had seemed to become my best friend the last few days.

I rubbed raw at my face in hopes that I could shake this nightmare away. Caitlyn continued to talk somewhere close by.

"You did my makeup that night. Curled my hair all pretty. Even dropped me off at the restaurant."

I looked across the room and realized my Caitlyn was sitting across from the bed that still held my body. She broke into sobs and held tight to my hand. From across the room I felt a tug on my own hand, a sudden warmth that hadn't been there before. I looked down towards my palm. I had felt that.

"Caitlyn?"

"You were right Lee. He never showed up that night. Never called. I felt so stupid for not believing you. The worst part wasn't getting stood up. It was the agony of knowing you would tell me 'I told you so' as soon as I got home," she paused through the sobbing and laughed forcibly.

"You came to pick me up. Remember that sis? Pulling up to some fancy restaurant in dad's rusty old Ford pickup? Boy, you must have turned nearly everyone's head in the joint that night. But when I told you what happened. I tried to be strong. I couldn't though. You just let me be sad and held me while I cried, didn't say anything at all. Just comforted me the way you always do."

"I'm still here Cat" I whispered from my chair.

"When dad died two years ago. You were there for me. I was trying to take care of a two month old baby girl and there you were, still taking care of me. Leah, you were always so strong. I…I need you to still be strong. I can't have you not wake up from this. You have to be alright."

I chose this time to make my way over to my baby sister. Her shoulders shook with the failed attempt to restrain the sobs. Her face was a glistening mess of tears and running snot. Voice cracking, she massaged the length of my right arm with her hand.

I smiled down at Caitlyn and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She didn't react to the touch. I hadn't really expected her to, but I was still a little disappointed. Even in the movie 'Ghost' Demi Moore seemed to have picked up on Patrick Swayze's presence. The least my sister could have done was glance around the room suspiciously, or perhaps hiring Whoopi would make all this easier.

"The doc says you're getting better. Says that you should wake up in a day or so now."

The hope in Caitlyn's voice soon died as she took in a shaky breath.

"I just hope you're the same Leah when you wake up."

"I will be Caitlyn. I will be."

The floor beneath my feet shook. Nothing in the room reacted to the shaking, but I was struggling to maintain my balance. Caitlyn said goodbye to my lifeless form on the bed, kissed my forehead and made her way for the exit. The ground shook harder. I was force to my knees with a painful thud.

Caitlyn's form was nearly out of sight. I called out desperately to her retreating back. Screaming her name over and over until she was gone and the door was shut. The lights went out in the room almost instantaneously. I pulled my legs in towards my chest, wrapped my arms about them protectively and sobbed. The tears fell and a frightened voice called out my sisters name. My frightened voice. The ground never stopped shaking and the longer it continued to do so the more I wished I would just wake up from all this.

Lights came on. I blinked it away, but the light wouldn't go. It stayed. The floor steadied a moment and I uncurled myself. I was in Caitlyn's house. I recognized it because she was the only person I knew who could decorate in such a tacky, of the wall style. Most of the items in her house had come from yard sales and flea markets.

I stood up from the ground. Tiles lay beneath my feet. The area appeared to their kitchen. One of the largest rooms in their house. I searched about the place, acknowledging the fridge and counters and then of course Caitlyn, sitting quietly at her dinning room table. Her eyes were red and swollen. It looked as though she hadn't gotten much sleep in the last few days.

"Sweetheart, are you in here?"

I turned to the voice and a blurred figure walked directly past me. It took me a moment for my brain to connect the image as a man and the man as Greg, her husband. 'He's the tall, dark and handsome one in the corner' Caitlyn had whispered the first time she'd picked him out in a bar. Greg was a good man in all senses. He could support my sister, gave her love, friendship and was a good, stable shoulder for her to lean on. Together they'd been able to take care of my two year old niece Evelyn.

"I just put Evelyn down, how about you come up to bed now too?"

"I will later. I have a pot of coffee on. I'm just going to have a quick cup, read the paper and then I'll be up."

Greg frowned and glanced to where I was looking. Sure enough the coffee machine was on and Caitlyn already had a cup set aside next to it.

"We can always turn it off hon. Come on, the beds not as warm without you…"

"I said I'm fine right here."

The sharpness with how Caitlyn spoke shocked me. If it were me she'd talked to like that, I'd have run at out of there and given her the space she so desperately needed. Not Greg though. That man wasn't afraid of anything, not even my baby sister. He pulled out the seat next to her and cradled her hands in his.

"I know you say your fine, but you can't tell me that and expect me to believe it. You haven't slept in two days. Evelyn is wondering what's wrong with her mommy and to be honest, I'm getting a little worried myself."

Caitlyn shawn her tear stained face in Greg's direction. "I just don't know what to do with myself. With Leah in the hospital. I just, I feel I should be doing something to help her. I don't know…"

"That's okay. She's your sister, it's expected that you would want to help her. I understand that. But there's nothing you can do for her right now, not while she unconscious. The doctors said she'd wake up in a few days and when she does you'll need to be fully rested so that you can be there for her. What is she going to do when she sees her sister looking worse than her?"

Caitlyn laughed and pulled Greg into a tight embrace. "She'd probably take it out on you."

I smirked. That was the sister I knew and loved.

"Leah!"

The ground shook again. Faster and more violent. Immediately I dropped to the floor. The lights went out and I gasped at the feel of something wrapping about my arms and gripping hard with pain. Someone shouted my name.

"Come on, come on. Wake up. Leah, you better listen to me damn it."

My eyes fluttered. A fresh breeze blew pass my face. I shivered and felt the grip around my arms loosen. I tried again to open my eyes and this time they stayed open.

"Oh, thank God."

The worried face of Dean Winchester stared down into mine. I could faintly make out the smell of the gas station bathroom around us. Cars whizzed by on the highway. My heart pounded in my chest and I realized that I was back where I started; with the Winchester's in the middle of nowhere.

"What the hell happened to you?"

I brought a shaky hand to my head. The other I used to brush away Dean's lingering form. He caught it and used it to sit me upright. Things spun for a moment then once again relaxed.

"I think I was just a little dehydrated, that's all. No biggie."

"No biggie?" Dean brushed a hand through his hair. "No biggie? I get out of the car to take a piss and find you on the ground unconscious and all you can say is 'no biggie'?"

"Dean, I get it that I scared you, but seriously I'm fine. Do you see any blood? Any bruising or broken bones?"

"It doesn't matter that you're not hurt Leah. I mean, you were just lying here. I tried to wake you for two minutes and you didn't so much as moan."

"What can I say, I'm a heavy sleeper."

I got to my feet and watched apprehensively as Dean followed my movements. He was watching me with a searching look, as though he expected to find something.

Dean's hand shot through the air and took hold of my arm. I tried to pull free and continue on my path towards the black Chevy, but his grip held me in place where I stood. With a quick jerk, he spun me around to face him. The look on his face silenced any protest from my mouth.

"You're keeping stuff from us Leah. From me and Sam."

"What…I'm not…"

"Don't" he said through gritted teeth. "I'm not an idiot. I've seen those gears in your head turning. You're up to something. Finding you out on the highway the other day."

"What of it."

"You went from calm to unstable in seconds. Whose Jared and Jensen?"

"What"

I couldn't believe I was hearing straight. How come he'd remembered all this stuff and never brought it up before? Why hadn't he done this before I past out at the gas station?

"You called Sam and I by those names. As if you recognized us. Who are they?"

"No one."

No one?" Dean nodded. "What about all that talk about tv stations, hmmm? Or how bout you not remembering where you were? How come you didn't have any ID in your car when I searched it?"

"You searched my car!" He didn't even react. "If you remember all this, then you might recall the little fact that I crashed my car that same night. I hit my head, I wasn't thinking clearly."

"Well, I guess you were thinking a little more clearly when you told Sam and I you were a hunter who knew Pastor Jim?"

"Yeah, so what does that have to do with anything? You don't believe I'm a hunter now too, is that it?"

"I don't know, are you a hunter?"

"I don't have time for this" I growled and went to turn away. Again Dean's hand pulled me back.

"You better start making time."

With a fierce yank, I withdrew my arm from his hold and stumbled back a foot, still afraid to move away from him incase he pounced upon like a wild animal. The look in his eyes was cold and menacing, like he would rather I run just so that he could drag me back.

"You wanna tell me what all this is about?"

"Jim Murphy's dead. He died almost four months ago now."

Meg. That one syllable raced through my mind. How had I let this lie catch up with me like that? Everything was falling apart.

I turned to Dean, but the only thing I got was a glare.

"If you were so close with Pastor Jim, how is it, you didn't seem to find the need to bring up his death. I'm sure if you guys knew one another like you say you did, than I'm sure you knew about it, right?"

"I didn't feel there was any need to bring it up."

"Bullshit" he whispered. "Just like everything else you've been telling me and Sammy. I'm really starting to wonder who you really are Leah."

"Then how come you let me ride with you guys this far?"

"Figured I could keep my eyes on you. If you know so much about us than you're obviously a threat. I'm sure you're familiar with the saying. 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer'."

"I'm not your enemy" I pleaded. I was quickly beginning to loose this battle. "There are just a few things I need to keep to myself right now Dean. Please, you've got to understand that."

"What I understand is that you've been keeping stuff from us and then I find you laying out here unconscious. I highly doubt it had anything to do with dehydration."

"Well then, I don't know what to tell you Dean. You've let me come this far with you and I don't see when I have ever been a threat to you or Sammy. I mean Jesus, you got drunk with me last night. Where were your hunter instincts then?"

Dean opened his mouth and softened his voice. "You're right. You haven't shown to be a threat, but you've got to remember that those few lies you've told us, they were pretty big ones. Not to mention, that we only just found you on the side of the road. After all that's happened to my brother and me, we can't be too careful and this time I refuse to let anyone go unnoticed."

"So where does that leave us?"

"We're going to Stull. Sam doesn't know what I know. Kid went to College but he's not the brightest bulb in the box, if you know what I mean. I know a friend in Lawrence, just a few miles west of Stull. We'll stay with her and hopefully she can tell me what to do about you."

"What, is your friend some kind of cop?"

"Something like that" he smirked. "Christo."

"Excuse me. Did you just go all Latin on me? You think I'm some kind of demon or something."

"Well, not anymore."

Dean walked in front of me towards the Impala. I followed behind him, knowing that the ride to Stull would be much better than our actual stay in the city. Especially with the so-called friend he had waiting for me in Lawrence. My heart was in my throat with the thought of it, because there was only one person that I could think of that lived in Lawrence that the Winchester's could trust. Missouri Mosley.


	6. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note: Hey, c'est moi encore. Lol, that's my lil touch of French for the day. Anywho, as you can see I've updated this story. Hope you're all excited about reading and reviewing wink wink. I'll try my best to have another chappie up by Friday since it's my only day off. This chapter was a bit more relaxed, not much humour from Leah I know, or any action, but that will all come into play in the next chappie, so hold tight. Enjoy!**_

_**Disclaimer: Leah, is all mine. Supernatural and it's handsome boys, not mine. The ice cream in my freezer, DEFINITELY mine. :D**_

_**Shout Out: To all you very kind and loyal reviewers, thank you all so much for telling me what you like and don't like and sharing your thoughts about this story. It makes it all that much more fun and it gets all these crazy ideas going in my head. So, keep it up and thanks from the bottom of my heart.**_

Crash Course

By: Babyhilts

Chapter 7:

Painful hours sluggishly ticked away. Darkness came, we stayed at a hotel. The sun rose and off we went once more. The second day we drove was more laid back than the first. We had been making good time up to this point, so automatically everyone eased into the remaining hours. Dusk was crawled over the highway in grey wisps. It curled and uncurled above the asphalt, struggling against the eventual trampling of the Chevy's tires.

We drove through Stull just to catch a glimpse of what waited for us in the morning. The town slept soundly. House lights had been extinguished hours before our arrival, yet as we passed the cemetery and demolished church, a patrol car hid in the darkness of a looming oak. A high fence encased the grounds in a interweaving mesh a metal. An eroded sign dangled from the entrance that exclaimed "No trespassing. Anyone found loitering will be prosecuted." For just a moment the impala faltered and unconsciously we turned to squint through the thick black. The endless rows of graves; cement ruble that marked the sight where a church once stood. A chill ran through my upper back. The car picked up speed, Dean mentioned something about only being 10 miles away from Lawrence when I caught him looking through the rearview mirror. Since leaving the gas station a day earlier, we'd barely spoken more than five words to one another. Sam gave us these looks, when the other wasn't paying attention and I felt bad of course, but I still didn't bother to break the awkward cycle Dean and I had created. So, when I caught Dean's hazel green eyes glaring through the reflection of the mirror I assumed they were directed at me. A lump formed in my throat and aimlessly I wondered why it had taken him so long to react and why now.

"We're being followed."

Well that was a relief. It was bad enough we weren't going to talk to one another until everything was settled in Lawrence, but to have him glaring at me…well, he wasn't anymore I discovered, but just the thought had made me uneasy.

"What is it?" Sam asked. He'd been slipping into a dream. His voice struggled to rid itself of its tired rasp. I spied him watching intently at the side mirror.

"Not what. Who." Dean looked to the rearview mirror. "It's that patrol car."

"What patrol car?"

To be honest my hunting skills weren't as well defined as the Winchesters and I hate to say it, but the only reason I'd know about the car hiding quietly in the shadows was because Dean told me just then.

"It's been following us since we left the cemetery."

Over the top of my shoulder I caught the lonely headlights of a single car. I couldn't make out any colors or shape really, but the bold red and blue lights that sat along the roof created an awkward shape of black.

Silence siphoned through the interior of the Chevy. When we reached the city limits the patrol car turned around and disappeared once again into the ebony city walls of Stull. Sam fell back asleep. His shaggy head thumped against the glass pane. The road was a bit rough. I'd tried to fall asleep too, but the worry crept in once more. Would Missouri show me for what I was, a liar and a leech? What would Sam and Dean think? Where would I go? When could I see Caitlyn again? God, I missed home. Tomorrow would be the first day of a series of days to follow in our investigation of Stull. Sam had done research the entire trip, but hadn't bothered to relay anything of it back to us.

Ten minutes from Missouri's Dean switched on the tape deck. The volume was turned down but still the music flowed through the car. Bob Segar sang that 'When you're ridin' sixteen hours and there's nothin' much to do and you don't feel much like ridin', you just wish the trip was through' and in that quiet moment, I couldn't help but agree with the guitar wielding man.

I was gnawing at the ends of my already ravaged nails when Sam woke and the car turned into a gravel drive. The crunching of loose rocks beneath the car shook me from my reverie. Unaware that we'd even entered the quiet suburban street, I felt the sudden rush of panic course through my veins. Two single sodium lights illuminated the windows of the moderate Lawrence house. Deep inside the home was Missouri Mosley. Tears wanted to rise, but I was better than this. I shoed them away and swallowed the anxious bile back into me stomach. It was ridiculous. I was an adult, I could handle this small confrontation. Right?

Through the fogging of the windshield I saw the door to the house open and a healthy, plump black woman appeared in a warm bathrobe on the porch steps. I couldn't handle this.

The engine turned off. The reassurance of music vanquished.

"Sam, can you get our stuff from the trunk? I just have to talk to Leah for a minute."

Sam unbuckled himself from the restraint of the seatbelt and looked hesitantly between Dean and I. Although I could barely put together any rational thoughts that didn't involving me bolting for the door and running full throttle down the street in tears, I nodded towards him.

"We'll be fine" I reassured.

Sam didn't buy it, but got out of the car and left us just the same. When he'd taken the weighed down duffel bags from the trunk and had already begun to great Missouri on the porch, that was when Dean turned around and looked at me. It was the first time in nearly a day that he'd looked at me head on, without quickly jerking away from the eye contact. Was he just as nervous as I was about all this lying? Did he expect to find out I was some sort of demon? Was that what he feared?

"Leah, you okay?"

He wasn't trying to be compassionate about the situation and honestly, I didn't expect it, but he softened his tone of voice and took on that adult quality that made me take him more serious. I nodded through the tumbling of worried thoughts.

"It's been a long ride, is all" I tried to answer. It didn't do much good. The awkward silence was still there and Dean had yet to turn around.

"You didn't say much."

"Neither did you."

Dean forced a smile. "It's late. I think that we can wait until tomorrow to go over what we talked about."

"You're not worried I might take off on you by then?"

"Where would you go?"

He was right. Where would I go? I looked past him, through him almost and saw that Sam had disappeared into the house; however, Missouri still remained, standing with her arms folded across her chest, staring out across the driveway and into the interior of the car. I got the feeling she was looking at me. I didn't much care for the feeling. I felt violated and naked and for some reason embarrassed that perhaps she could look inside me and see what made me tick.

"Tomorrow it is then."

Dean nodded "Tomorrow."

We broke eye contact. He slipped quietly out of the driver's seat. Missouri had gone back inside the house. I stayed a moment longer in the impala, wishing I didn't have to move. That I could fall asleep on the back seat and nuzzle my head into the rough upholstery. I wanted to go back to sleep and wake up in the arms of my baby sister. I wanted to hold her and cry. I was getting over these feelings of confusion bit by bit, but the last two days had taken their toll on me. I was starting to feel more wrung out with each passing day. I felt on the brink of cracking like some delicate china doll. Now with Missouri's judgment only hours away and a hunt in Stull, I wasn't sure just how long I'd be able to keep things together.

I picked up my plastic bag from the impala's floor. Dirty clothes and clean clothes, all bought from the cheap dime store miles behind us now, rolled into one bag. I locked the door behind me and made my way with a determined glare, up the wooden steps and through the front door. A dim light led the way up another series of stairs to where I guess Missouri's room and any spare ones were. I didn't see Dean or Sam anywhere and I feared that if I didn't move soon I'd run into the older psychic and she'd reveal me for a fraud before the first light of days touched the sky.

"Leah?"

Sam stood at the top of the stairs. He descended them in a rush.

"I was wondering where you boys ran off to" I said trying to fake that girly playfulness.

"Just brought the bags up to the spare room. Missouri has a spare bed ready for you upstairs if you want me to show you."

"Where's Dean sleeping?"

Sam furrowed his brow. Mentally I scolded him for acting like a thirteen year old boy with raging hormones. "He's crashing on the couch tonight."

I shook my head. "That's fine. He can take my room. I'll sleep on the couch."

"Leah…"

"He did most of the driving here. If anyone deserves a bed tonight it's him. He can have mine. I'll be perfectly fine on the couch. Besides, we all have to be rested up for tomorrow."

Sam was struggling to think of some excuse, I could see it in his eyes. He opened his mouth to protest when a rather warm, southern voice drifted into the room.

"She's right Sam. Dean's had a long drive. This girl seems fit enough to handle one night on that couch of mine."

She winked and let slip a quiet smile. Her dark curls were pulled back into a large bun at the back of her head, while the bathrobe revealed baby blue pajamas underneath. I caught her looking at me again, the way I'd seen earlier, now openly doing so in front of Sam. I scolded her for making it so obvious, not out loud of course, but knew immediately afterwards that she probably had heard me anyway. Her lips curled once more before she ushered Sam up the stairs for the night.

"And you tell that brother of yours that if I catch him eating my sweets again I'm a make him sleep outside."

Sam chuckled and continued up the stairs to his room. Moments later the lights at the top of the stairs shut off. Missouri turned to me. The cheerful front she'd put up disappeared and a more serious once came over her. She motioned for me to follow her into the living room where a couch and a folded quilt with two pillows awaited me. I stood patiently by her side, listening as she made polite conversation, going through the movements of preparing my bed. I barely processed what she was saying. She reminded me of my long departed grandmother as she tucked a white sheet into the crevices of the couch. When I was just a little girl my grandmother had taught me how to make the prefect bed. Her wrinkled fingers would force out any creases in the bed sheets and keeping the pillows firm and smooth beneath the floral spread. I watched Missouri and smiled thinking that Missouri would make a great mother.

The older woman paused in her movements. She turned to look at me over her shoulder and I realized when we locked eyes that she had stopped talking. Did I miss something? Should I saw something?

"That's sweet of you dear."

She bent over and finished making my bed. It took me a moment to realize that Missouri had openly been listening to my thoughts. That feeling of nakedness washed over me once more but when she had tucked in her last corner of the quilt and flashed me that warm smile, the feeling disappeared.

"Thank you so much" I told her, mid step towards my bed for the night. She shook her hand and took hold of mine, gently leading away from the room.

"You and I need to have a talk before tomorrow."

My heart raced. Dean lied. He said we'd discuss it tomorrow. Accusations and anger flooded my body. I was about to jerk out of Missouri's grasp and race up those stairs to knock some sense into him when Missouri let loose a light hearty laugh. Her hand slipped out of mine and returned to her side.

"Take a seat Leah and don't you go accusing that boy. He may not be the sharpest young man, but you can trust him. It's me who wants to talk to you."

I nodded and tried to restrain myself from thinking out loud. I pulled out a seat at the round, mahogany table that looked similar to Caitlyn's. Missouri busied herself in the kitchen before she returned to my side, carrying a steaming mug and a plate with three chocolate chip cookies. They were rather large and appeared to be homemade.

"I thought you didn't want anyone eating your sweets" I said through the first sip of my hot chocolate.

"That boy has a nasty sweet tooth. Nearly ate me out of house and home last time they were here."

I laughed and took another sip from the mug. She had been waiting for me I realized. All this, to prepare me for the confrontation I'd been dreading the entire trip.

"Are you that scared of me child?" she said warmly.

I spoke through a mouthful of cookie. "No, it's not that, it's just…"

She nodded. "I could sense it from the porch. You're very trouble dear. I'm not sure what about, most of what I've picked up from you is a jumbled mess but your mind is clouded. I fear that if you are to help these boys tomorrow and the days to come, you'll have to be more settled."

"I don't know how to do that. Not right now anyway."

"Then how about you tell me what you haven't told those boys."

I shrugged and for the next fifteen minutes I recounted the last few days to the older woman. I told her of how I fell asleep in Vancouver and awoke in Texas, how I could see myself unconscious in this hospital, how I'd lied to the Winchesters in fear that I'd be left alone, to fend for myself. I told her all I knew of the supernatural, of her, of pastor Jim and the demon that had tried to take their lives only months earlier. When I'd finished the mug and plate sat empty in front of me. My eyes were itchy and red from the endless tears that I'd kept hidden. Missouri was quiet for a second before she picked up my glass and plate and went to rinse them in the sink.

My body shook as an after effect of the crying. I listened as her slipper covered feet padded across the cold linoleum. I still had my sandals on. I ran a tired hand across my face, rubbed raw at the stickiness of drying tears. Missouri appeared at my side and rested a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"I'm not sure what to tell you right now, that will do any good" she sighed and fell back into the chair. "In all honesty dear, if never heard of something quite like this. I can look into it tomorrow for you, but the chances of finding any answers behind these strange events are slim to none."

I was expecting that, but hearing it out loud, from Missouri Mosley just made it all the more painful.

"And what about tomorrow? Dean was going to have a chat with us, about…well, about everything."

Missouri got to her feet. "That boy worries too much. I won't tell him we talked. I'll leave that up to you."

"I can't. He'd flip out Missouri. You know him. He'd probably ship me off to some asylum…"

"Leah Carlson, don't you go making any fast judgment on people. Dean may seem all black and white sometimes, but that boy has a lot of grey inside of him too, he may surprise you. But for now, we'll leave it as is. When we have all our facts straight then we'll tell him."

"Thanks Missouri."

"Don't be thanking me, I didn't do anything honey except lend an open ear."

I smiled. "Well, then thanks for the cookies. I can see why Dean eats all of them."

"Don't tell me I'll have to watch out for your sneaky little hands now too."

Missouri and I said our goodnights. I watched her go up the stairs to her room and waited until I heard the door ease close behind her. Making my way into the dark living room and onto the couch, I felt relaxed and at peace for the first time since entering this new world with the Winchesters. I was warm and felt almost at home in Lawrence. Missouri was a like a second mother that I just wanted to hug tight, the way I'd do with my own mother. For once things felt under control and I was finally looking optimistic about my future. Funny how things could change so quickly within a few hours.


	7. Chapter 8: Part 1

**Author's Note:** _Okay everyone, here's the next few installments. It's been a while since I update but I come bearing longer and hopefully, better chapters. I've broken chapter 8 into 3 parts as there is a lot I want to fit in for this chappie and I haven't written it all out yet. Part 1&2 are up and part 3 I will try to post tonight. If not, then tomorrow. Enjoy:D Oh and Review_

_**Side Note:** There was a question asked about whether or not Missouri now knows EVERYTHING about who Leah is. Good question. As I was reading over the chappie it is a bit vague. Missouri is filled in on everything going on and even the whole Sam and Dean being on a television series detail. It's a bit strange but Missouri just kind of accepts it. I can't really be anymore specific than that. I find it hard to believe that she would just take Leah's story without much question, but that's just the way it plays out. The plot to this story is a bit out there so if there is anything that begs asking or something confusing, just ask and I'll be happy to fix the mistake or explain. We will be learning more about Leah's predicament as to how she came to be in Sam and Dean's world, so don't worry it will be explained soon enough. _

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own Supernatural._

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**Crash Course**

**By: Babyhilts**

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**Chapter 8: Part 1**

_The Devil came from Kansas, where he went to I can't say  
If you really are my brother, then you'd better start to pray  
For the sins of those departed and ones about to go  
There's a dark cloud just above us - don't tell me 'cause I know  
I'm not a humble pilgrim - there's no need to scrape and squeeze  
And don't beg for silver paper when I'm trying to sell you cheese_

The Devil Came From Kansas :Keith Reid

The work of many fingers tapping rhythmically from down the hall woke me up too soon the next day. I'd found myself sleeping peacefully, sprawled awkwardly across the couch cushions with the pant leg of my sweat pants riding up to my thigh and the baggy shirt pulled up inches below my breasts. I groaned away the constant hitting of Sam's hands on the laptop keys but it was never silenced. A lonely clock hanging on the opposite wall of the room read eight a.m. It wasn't bad, but I preferred to play the lifeless blonde role until at least eleven. Perhaps that was why I was so out of shape. It didn't matter really at that moment. I could tell no one else was up and frankly; I didn't want to be up either. I had half a mind to take the pillow I'd spent most of the night sleeping on and using it to suffocate Sam long enough for him to stop whatever it was he was doing on that damn laptop.

Crisp white sheets, that had so carefully been tucked into the sides of the couch, beneath the cushions, had managed to free themselves during the night and sought their revenge by restraining my body to the loveseat. The sheet was wrapped about an ankle and crisscrossed over my chest, beneath the back of my neck and overlapped my right arm, sinking back into the couch afterwards as if to pull me in with it. Sam's clicking of the keyboard stirred my mind from out of a long needed sleep and I felt the energy and excitement that comes with the prospect of a new day.

With a ten minute struggle against the couch and sheets, I found myself on the floor, brushing off the offending material. The lights were still off in the quiet home in Lawrence, but there was enough light from outside the kitchen windows to point me in the right direction.

Led by the sound of Sam's frantic typing and the few rays of sunlight, I crept through the rooms and found myself back inside the kitchen/ dinning room area. Sam was dressed in flannel pants and a navy blue shirt that looked well used. Shaggy brown wisps hid most of him from view while the laptop sitting on the table hid the rest. The linoleum announced my entrance with a low moan as I weighed my foot down on the floor. Sam's fingers stopped. I smirked and found myself trying to look at him through a thick forest of brown hair. Sam's hand came away from the keyboard and pushed the hair back.

"Hey, did I wake you?"

I nodded, taking the same seat I had the night before, that sat at the opposite end of the table.

"Yeah, actually you did. What are you doing on that thing anyway, typing out your Pulitzer Prize winning novel?"

Sam laughed as he turned the laptop around to face me. A dark, gothic layout covered the screen in vibrant reds and all consuming blacks. Bold lettering moved across the top part of the webpage, echoing the words Gateway to Hell. A series of paragraphs and links followed, all as graphic and spine tingling as the next. There were pictures as I scrolled further into the depths of the site. I soon recognized the images as the cemetery we'd stopped by the night before. The remains of the church, pictures of tombstones knocked over by vandals and storms. The webpage pulled me in and I soon began to understand how serious this was becoming. I had thrown myself headlong into this case that I still knew nothing about. The possible danger had escaped me up until this point but now, with all the images and the stories up in front of me on the screen it was all becoming real. Or as real as could be.

"I don't know why dad sent us here."

I finished scrolling and struggled to tear myself away from the computer. Sam was grumbling about something but I barely heard him.

"What did you say?"

"Dad," he said it with distaste. "I don't understand why he'd tell us to come here."

I still hadn't caught on. "Leah?"

"Sorry, I don't get it."

"Did you read the article on there?"

"I skimmed over a few things. Mostly pictures."

Sam dragged a hand across his face and sighed. He closed the laptop and got out of his chair. For a moment I thought he'd gotten fed up with me or something, I hated when people got like that. When they didn't answer you and just rose to their feet to walk out of the room on you, leaving you to wonder what you did wrong. Sam didn't. I should have known he was different.

He pushed the chair back, letting the legs drag noisily against the floor. I watched him step across the dinning room and into the kitchen, where he let his hands hover over near the coffee machine. He pulled out two mugs from the cupboards above, like he'd been a guest at Missouri's for years. We stayed silent while he went about opening the fridge door and adding milk and sugar to the thick caffeine drink. When he'd finish and handed me one of the mugs, he sighed and leaned against the counter. I waited, knowing what was about to come.

"It's ridiculous. I mean, I don't understand him, you know?"

I shook my head.

"Well, he couldn't have sent us here for this" he gestured towards the closed laptop. "Gateway to hell? Child of Satan? Come on. I may hunt the supernatural but even I don't believe in all that crap."

"Well, maybe there's something else in Stull."

Sam's head shook violently from side to side. Was he having a seizure? I waited. Nope, he was just getting upset.

"There's nothing else. I've checked everything. Besides the coordinates are for the cemetery. He wants us to check out the cemetery. God, you know, you'd think after what the three of us have been through over the past months. After the accident and Dean almost dying! You'd think he'd want to work as a family to track down the thing that killed our mom. Or he'd at least give us a little more to go on than these wild goose chases after a bunch of coordinates."

"Sam…"

"No. He treats us like children. It's not enough that he sends us out on these hunts but it's like a five day mystery just figuring out what were supposed to be looking for. And Stull, Kansas? What does some college prank from the 70's have to do with anything?"

I was dumbstruck. Nothing was going on inside my head, nothing whatsoever. I didn't bother to try to form words, because honestly, I didn't think it would do much good at this point. The only time I'd ever seen Sam upset about John was from the safety of my living room and even then he was behind layers of thick glass; trapped within my television set.

The stairs creaked. Sam's head shot up. I followed the gesture and took in the disheveled form of Dean Winchester. Covered only in a grey t-shirt and tight binding boxer shorts, ala Phantom Traveler and let's just say they accentuated all his good parts. I could feel my blood heating up as he shuffled tiredly across the tiled floor. I had to restrain myself from tackling the strong masculine form the ground. He grunted. Part of his uncovered leg brush against mine and in a matter of seconds the air had left my lungs.

I gave in and took in a glance. Those full lips and tussled hair mingled together with those hazel green eyes that masked away layers of rage, concern, wild recklessness and every emotion that made up Dean Winchester. They were dim at the moment, extinguished through the night by seeping in of fatigue but any moment and they would be alive again. I sat, hands in my lap, wanting to make contact with those eyes and be sucked into it, no matter how immature or foolish I looked. Just one moment to loose myself.

Sam snorted inches from my face. I looked away from Dean to his younger half and felt the heat of embarrassment set in at being caught. It's not as though Dean was trying to look this sexy on purpose. Right?

Another glance. Lazily his hand rubbed against the back of his neck. He leaned forward, stretching stiff muscles while at the same time preparing himself a cup of coffee. He couldn't be doing this on purpose. It was all too natural, of course, Dean did have practice in deception.

"So, what were you two ladies talking about?"

He held up a steaming mug, bringing it slowly to his lips. Sam clutched his closed laptop like a safety raft to his chest. His eyes were still alight with the leftover excitement from the moment before Dean entered the kitchen. Did his brother not even notice this bubbling rage slowly rising to the surface?

"We were talking about Stull."

"Stull, huh?" Dean looked me up and down and then returned to drinking his coffee. I think he'd been trying to ignore my presence in the house. At least until all this confusion was settled with Missouri. "So, Sammy, what did you find out about our little haunted hamlet?"

The fires grew behind the brown iris'.

"Dean, this hunt, I don't think this is where we should be right now."

"Oh, and where do you think we should be" he smirked but he obviously wasn't catching on to what Sam was trying to say.

"The legend of Stull, Dean it's ridiculous. Just some prank from thirty some years ago. Were wasting our time. Dad's wasting our time."

Dean lowered his head. The muscles in his jaw tensed only for a split second before he once again masked it away and relaxed his face. He turned to face Sam, a determined look already set in.

"Were not having this conversation again, are we Sam…"

"Dean we should have gone after dad when he left three months ago."

"No, Sam. Dad knows what's right for now…"

"Does he?"

"Yeah, he does. Jeez, after all we went through together you can't have a little more faith in the man?"

"He doesn't give me any reason to. Dean he was pissed off I didn't shoot him for the greater good. Self sacrificing and all that bullshit. How can you have faith in something so unstable? Now here we are, looking into another one of his Scooby Doo Mysteries? Thanks, but no thanks. I'm finished with stumbling blinding in dad's shadow."

The tension between the brothers had reached its most powerful heights. I wanted to get up and run to find Missouri, but Sam beat me to it. The laptop still held in that death grip, he stomped out of the kitchen and out the front door. Where he went, I wasn't sure.

Dean took a long savoring drink from the blue coffee mug. A distant look washed over him.

"Dean" I ventured nervously. There was a slight tremor in my voice.

"He'll get over it. In a few hours we'll leave for Stull and get this all figure out. Get the job done, nice and neat."

"Dean…"

"I'm going to take a shower."

He tossed the mug recklessly into the sink and disappeared from the kitchen. My heart raced from the onslaught of emotions in the room. They shifted with the humid air. I listened quietly to sound of Dean's leftover coffee draining into the sink. I stayed there, waiting, for what, I wasn't sure of. I just needed to time by myself, with my thoughts to gather together enough strength for this afternoon. For Stull.

At one o'clock I stumbled out of the shower, hair dripping carelessly onto my navy blue shirt. I sported my cheap track pants proudly, while modeling the towel wrapped about my hair turban style. Water still seeped through the material, tracing clear lines along my cheeks. Sam had left an hour earlier to fill up the impala's gas tank and to pick up supplies, whatever that was. The real reason he left was to prolong the hunt and the time he'd have to spend with Dean. I knew that Sam wouldn't bail out on a hunt, not this far into it.

I was shaking the last few drops of water from my hair, bent over with the towel shuffling through my blonde locks when I heard a familiar set of voices down the hall. Not an eavesdropper by trade, I ignore the conversation and continued what I was doing. Until the name Leah arose. That was when I took action. I tossed the towel carelessly onto the bathrooms porcelain counters and tip toed along the hall towards the closed room. I didn't get too close and I didn't have to, the voices were more than loud enough to let me in on what was being said without being a complete degenerate.

"Boy, I'm a tell you again and you listen up this time when I talk. That girl is nothing but good. She has some spunk, but maybe that'll do you some good."

"Then what about the secrets she's been keeping from us? I've seen the way she gets when she's been caught in a lie. She gets that look."

"Dean everyone has secrets. Not all of them are bad. She'll tell you in due time what she hasn't already. You have to understand that Leah, is probably doing this as a way of protecting herself."

"Protecting herself from what?"

"From you. From Sam. There is more about this girl than she lets on, a lot more and right now she is confused and scared and keeping up these secrets is just here way of building up those walls. It's all the girl has at the moment."

"Their not secrets Missouri, their lies. Lies that I refuse to take a chance on. After what happened, I don't want to gamble with the Sam's and mines life. And if she's so scared why not tell me what's going on? We can protect her."

"Not from this" I whispered out loud.

I felt the tears rising to the surface. I brushed them away before they had the chance to fall.

"Leah, will tell you. Until then, you have to have faith in the girl. I've seen who she is and she is of no threat to you or Sam. If she were, we would not be having this conversation."

There was a long drawn out silence at which point I decided would be best if I left my spot in front of the door. Being caught eavesdropping was the last thing I had in mind. I made my way to the bathroom, turned on the light and went about combing out the knots in my hair. About five minutes later the door at the end of the hall opened and I caught a glimpse of him walking past the doorway. I barely paid attention, but I thought that he paused in the doorway for just a quick second before continuing on down the hall.

"You know what they say about nosy girls?"

Missouri was standing in doorway, smiling in my direction. I felt ashamed for being caught. I shook my head and set the brush down alongside the towel.

"I didn't mean to at first, but I had to know. Dean's been so off lately with me. Well, more like all the time. I didn't know what was going to happen after you two talked."

"He's a smart boy Leah. He'll figure out what to do about all this but for now I think he's taken my advice and decided to have a little more faith in you. But you'll have to do the same."

"Missouri…"

"Not right now, but all those secrets, it will do you some good to get them off your chest."

I nodded solemnly. Missouri was right. Heck, she was always right.

"What about my situation?" She had to have some new information for me.

"You just worry about today. I'll have some answers for you hopefully by tonight. It's still a little strange to me, but I'm sure there will be a way of figuring out what happened to you."

"And to get back?"

"I don't know just yet dear" I felt my face drop and Missouri sighed in response. "Keep your hopes high."

But that doubtful part kept wondering how I could manage some amazing feat like this when the world I knew it was turning upside down every second of my day. I didn't express these feelings to Missouri, as she was doing all she could for me. I just sucked it up like a good little girl and braced myself for what was surely to come. I didn't know it at the time, but we were all in for a hell of a reality check.


	8. Chapter 8 Part: 2

**Crash Course**

**By: Babyhilts**

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**Chapter 8: Part 2**

I waited in the busy parking lot of a quaint little outlet mall in Lawrence, Kansas. From limp arms dangled two weighed down bags reading _La Femme Boutique _across the front in elegant pink font. Inside them were the remains of my Velcro sandals and the outfit I'd bought at the discount store.

With every passing second I grew more impatient and felt more discomfort. A little less than an hour ago Dean had dropped me off at what appeared to be the priciest store in town in hopes that I would find something a bit more _decent_ to wear for the hunt. Decent being of course something short and low cut. The way he said the word decent gave me the idea that what I was wearing was way too casual for his liking. Or, that maybe I didn't have enough class to be tagging along in the Metallicar. When he caught the furrow of my brow and the look of insult that appeared on my face, he made a quick attempt to redeem himself by tossing one of his fake credit cards at me and saying 'Knock yourself out.' As insulted as I was, I was a girl after all, and it was a free chance to go crazy on a new outfit.

The prices inside were well beyond what I could have afforded back in Vancouver, but then again, I wasn't in Vancouver anymore. I skimmed through a couple of the On Sale racks and then headed for the goodies near the display window. Before I left, I'd found the perfect summer type dress. I'd have preferred jeans, or maybe even a skirt, but this place seemed to only carry outfits made for outings at the country club or perhaps a semi formal. The dress I chose was a simple white, sleeveless thing that stopped an inch above the knee. It had this frilly almost floral like quality to it that I liked but it wasn't anything fancy enough to draw much attention. Next, I took a pair of dark brown Swede boots that zipped up the side and rode all the way up to just below my knees. So, that although the dress showed some leg, the boots took care of most of that. I borrowed a few squirts of perfume from one of the counters and stole a few shots of hairspray when no one was looking. A lip gloss and some blush and mascara later and I was set to go.

I did a quick job of my makeup, added a light pink to my lips and cheeks to appear a bit healthier despite my pale complexion. Loose blonde locks I mussed around to give more volume and hide the nasty bruise near my hairline. When I'd finished I caught Dean's impala easing across the blacktop towards me. Sam rode shotgun, his head bent forward, most likely on his laptop.

"You all set?" Dean shouted over the tape deck. He turned to look at me over Sam's slouched figure and paused in his attempt to speak once more. I watched, silent, his eyes looking me up and down. The way I'd seen him do with that little brunette at the bar. I felt my heart go up into my lungs because for the first time since I'd known him, Dean was actually checking me out. "You uhh, clean up nice."

I scrunched my face. "Well don't go too overboard Casanova."

I opened the back to the impala and climbed in a bit disappointedly. Sam looked at me front his spot next to Dean and reassured me that I'd done a good job of choosing an outfit and all that Jazz. I thanked him of course and handed back the credit card.

Dean shifted the impala into gear and we tore out of the parking lot, burning a trail of rubber behind us. The song on the tape deck switched over to Lynyrd Skynyrd and I let myself relax into the back seat. Sam's fingers tapped across the keyboard, Dean's tapped along the leather of the steering wheel. We drove this way until we caught the welcome sign to Stull.

Sam shut the laptop and placed it down by his feet. The volume of Lynyrd Skynyrd had been lowered but the faint sound of Free Bird drifted through the cars speakers as Sam informed me of what was about to go down.

"We've got you set up to go check out the cemetery. This town's rumored to not taking to kindly to tourists looking for cheap thrills."

"Well, that explains the whole 'chase us out of town' routine we previewed last night" Dean remarked. I turned to Sam.

"Cheap thrills? Do you guys tend on letting me in on what were even looking for?"

"Course sweetheart, were not sending you up to the cemetery to pick up a bunch of dead guys in that little number."

"Dean, do you mind?" Sam caught hold of my wandering gaze and kept it focused on himself. "Look, your job is to search the cemetery for Dean and me. That cruiser that followed us last night, I think it's the sheriff. People around here are really serious about this local legend and would probably have us strung up in the town square if they caught us snooping around."

"Oh, so when you thought of stalking an old cemetery and getting arrested you immediately thought who else but Leah?"

"Exactly."

"Dean, would you give it a rest man" Sam shook his head and continued. "We thought, Leah could pull it off because first, she's already a hunter. She knows what to look out for and what she can and can't handle. So, we don't have to worry about you as much. Second, we figured an attractive woman would be easier to bypass any security problems."

My face flushed at the compliment but my heart was thumping hard against my chest, while my brain screamed 'You idiot, tell them you're not a hunter.'

"I guess those are good reasons."

"So, no worries?"

I smiled "No worries."

Sam continued to explain what exactly I should be looking for at Stull cemetery. Supposedly the legend of Stull wasn't all that unknown, in fact, the reason they were sending me in was because the cemetery was patrolled hourly by a police cruiser. On top of the cops watching every move out-of-towners made, there were the locals who were said to not take a great liking to strangers trampling over the graves of loved ones. My job was simple. Dean would drop me off a few blocks from the cemetery and I would walk the rest of the way in case the same cop was lurking around. I'd have a bouquet of flowers to help with my alias of 'the dead grandmother's beloved granddaughter.' What I was looking for would be a different matter. I'd search for the famous steps that according to stories led to a gateway into hell. I say this right now without much fear, but in reality, when Sam first mentioned it I had the sudden urge to want to throw up.

"You probably wont even find anything" Sam reassured in that same tone he'd used this morning, as if this whole idea was ludicrous.

Sam ranted and raved as he recounted the stories of Stull cemetery to me. Information varied about the legend and most of what I heard was pretty far out there. The rumors could be traced back to the 70's when people started to tell these tales of strange occurrences happening in the small burg. Supposedly, Stull cemetery was one of the seven gateways to hell. People believed that the devil would visit the cemetery on Halloween night, I mean how cliché? Then there were reports that the devil's child was buried somewhere in the graveyard, that a witch had been hung from an old oak tree hundred's of years ago, and that if you were dumb enough to stumble upon the gateway, you would either never be able to leave the place or you'd escape and find you had been gone for weeks on end when it felt like only minutes.

"Here, take this too" Dean had opened the back of the trunk and handed me a busted up walkman. I shot him a questioning look.

"What's this for? So I can listen to Sabbath while I roam the graves?"

"No. It's an EMF meter. Use it. I figure you probably won't see anything in the daylight, but just in case check for any readings." He bent down and searched the trunk some more. Large callused hands glided over polished blades and well-handled guns. Dean stopped and took a quick glance at me from over his shoulder. "Take this."

A .45 found it's way into my clammy palms. The weight surprised me at first as I fingered the gun. The rough handle. The trigger. I couldn't do this.

"You can handle a .45 right?" Dean smirked.

"Duh."

"Good."

The tone of Dean's voice surprised me then. I'd picked up on the quick change in his voice when he asked me if I could handle it. He was being sarcastic, but there was a glimmer of doubt in his eyes, a waver in his throat that accidentally snuck out. For a second I figured he understood that I didn't know what I was doing. As much as I wanted him and Sam to catch me in my lie right then, just so I didn't have to face the big bads by myself, I also wanted to help. I didn't want to have ridden with them this far to be just another thorn in their side.

"It's just bullets in there" Dean's muffled voice called out from the depths of the trunk. "I doubt anything will pop up, but keep it just in case."

"A gun is a little extreme don't you think? I mean for a cemetery. In broad daylight. When the cops patrol hourly."

I couldn't hide the grin on my face.

"You wanna go in unprepared?"

"No, I'm saying we could probably go a little more subtle. This isn't the wild wild west you know."

"Okay, give me the gun back then."

I handed over the weapon. There was one problem taken care of. Dean pulled out a long sheathed blade from hiding and handed it to me. I studied the grip of the weapon, looked it over and realized, this could work. I'd have to get close to my attacker, but hey, they would be incorporeal.

"You want me to stab a ghost?"

"Who said it was a ghost? No. You're looking through the cemetery. It's just for…"

"Precaution?"

Dean locked eyes with me. I felt uncomfortable under the gaze, nearly naked, the way I had when Missouri had looked at me the first night we'd arrived in Lawrence. Sam honked the horn and Dean and I both jumped a little. I smiled and placed the covered blade into my right boot. They were fashionable and handy I noted.

"Follow this road straight on until you hit the cemetery."

"Sure thing."

"Hey…I…Sam and I will be doing some boring stuff. Background checking at the library and everything. So, if you run…if you find anything important call us." Dean handed me his cell phone. "Sam's number is in the contacts."

"Thanks Dean. I'll be good."

The impala's horn sounded once more. I laughed.

"Hold on! Kid's got abandonment issues or something."

"You better hurry. Only so much sunlight in a day."

Dean paled a moment. The cocky grin was swept and washed away by a sea of white. It scared me more than I was willing to let on and had I waited for it to disappear I know he would have noticed this uncertainty.

I started down the dirt road at a brisk walk, going as fast as I could to distance myself from the fear I'd seen, from the uncertainty that lay beneath all that attitude. I heard the echo of the trunk slamming shut.

"Don't try to be a hero, Leah."

I was far enough now that Dean couldn't see the doubt I held in. I looked at him, a shadow illuminated by the sun.

"If something goes wrong get out of there. Got it?"

My hands trembled. I couldn't speak. I spun on the heel of my boot and did a wave with the back of my hand to let them know I'd heard. Seconds later the driver's door shut with approval and the impala roared to life. When I looked back there was only a brown dust cloud left.

"This is it" I whispered.

* * *

Swede boots, shuffling through the thick, uncut grass, the monotonous beeping of the homemade EMF meter. I groaned as I made my way through another aisle of graves. I'd done a quick sweep around the pile of cement that used to be a church. I circled about the stump of an old oak, where supposedly the witch had been hung. I even waited a few minutes in front of one gravestone that read STULL in faded, bold lettering and still nothing displayed on the busted up walkman. I was starting to wish it actually did play Sabbath, at least then I wouldn't be completely bored out of my mind.

"Don't be a hero" I mocked the last words Dean had said to me. What was I supposed to do? Save the cemetery from being overrun by grass?

I kicked viciously at the ground with the toe of my boot. The weight of the blade inside made it very uncomfortable and I was about ready to leave any minute. If I don't seem some translucent freak in the next five minutes I'm buggering off, I threatened to myself.

This whole thing about Stull was beginning to seem like a bust just like Sam said it would be. Sam was always right though. Figures. With all the pacing I'd been doing I was actually hoping something supernatural would jump out at me. I mean then I wouldn't have been lurking around a cemetery like a moron for the past hour. A sweating, miserable, tired, moron.

I checked the time on Dean's cell phone. It was getting on towards five thirty. Great. I lowered the EMF to my side and began to head for the cemetery gates. I took the first step and suddenly there was a pressure met with a strong grip on my right shoulder. I screamed in spite of it and pulled forward in a stumble. I came within inches of tripping over, Sally Kenwall's gravestone before my knees hit the ground. I did a somersault and landed on my back, the sky tilting down towards me as I tried to catch my breath.

"Miss, are you alright?"

The dizziness slowly faded away. A tall, lanky man in his late forties rushed to my side. He took both my arms in his hands before I could answer and began to ease me back onto my feet. He wore a pair of old jeans that were well used as indicated by the stained layers of dirt and white paint. The red flannel shirt hung off his thin shoulders while a blue hat, covered in old car oil, hid most of his face. I felt him eyeing me up.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

I brushed the grass off my knees and elbows and forced a flirtatious grin. What was it that Dean had said to me on the way here? 'If you run into anyone, just stall. Flirt, act innocent, whatever. Just don't be a smartass!'

"What are you doin' all alone up here?"

I gestured towards a recently dug grave where my bouquet of flowers rested.

"I'm just here visiting. I'm Evelyn's granddaughter."

"Funeral was months ago."

Shit. "I know and I tried to make it down in time but my job wouldn't let me." I forced the tears to rise up before I broke out into quiet sobs. "God, I can't believe I didn't come when it happened. I should have stayed here with her. She always wanted me to visit and I never did. Until now. And now she's gone."

I threw my head back and let the tears streamline down my face. The older man took a step back, unsure of what to do. Inside I was cheering, because it was only a matter of time before he understood that it would be best to leave the hysterical, crying girl alone.

"Oh, no hon." The man closed in the gap around us. "Evelyn would be glad to know that you tried."

"But I didn't try hard enough. I could have cancelled appointments; I could have bought the plane ticket that day and…"

"No, you listen to me" I felt his arms wrap about my waist and he pulled me into his chest. This obviously wasn't how I imagined it would go. "Your grandmother was a great woman. An understanding woman and she wouldn't want you up here, crying your sweet heart out about missing her funeral. You came, that's all that would have mattered to ole' Evelyn."

I sniffled. "I guess so."

"I know so."

The man released me from the tight embrace and held me at a foot's distance away. He searched my teary eyes and smiled. I forced a smile back. His hands fell away from my arms.

"Are you visiting someone too?" I asked innocently.

"No. I'm part of the city council. I come up here and make sure nothing funny is going on."

"What do you mean?"

"Vandals. Tourists. People believe this ole' cemetery here is haunted. They come here expecting to see some ghosts or devils or some evil nonsense only foolish headed people would believe."

"That's sick. To think someone like that is just trampling across my grandmother's grave."

"Don't you worry none. We've been doing a bang up job keeping the likes of them out of here."

"Thank you so much… I didn't catch your name."

"It's Earl."

"Thank you Earl."

"It's not a problem. You need a lift into town or anything dear?"

I shook my head. "I think I'd like to stay here with my grandmother a little longer."

Earl flashed a toothless grin and nodded. "You take your time. Have a good day."

"You too."

The old man disappeared slowly from view. I returned to the grave of Evelyn Wellington and pulled out Dean's cell phone. I made sure to survey the cemetery once more. When none of the other locals jumped out from behind the tombstones, I dialed Sam's number. On the second ring Dean picked up.

"Find anything?"

"Nothing" I said. There was a shuffling noise in the background. "What's going on?"

"Not much. Sam and I tore through all the archives. There isn't anything here."

"Well this job's been a bust. Feel like picking me up?"

"Don't want the exercise?" I heard the cocky smile and sighed.

"Just pick me up Dean."

"Fine. Meet us where we dropped you off. We'll be there in fifteen."

"Thanks."

I dropped the phone in the sole pock of my dress and began to trample my way across the burnt grass. It was all down hill from there on, but the sun was still sending down waves of sweltering heat that sent me sweating through the white fabric. Lines of perspiration ran, trickling down my face as I huffed out another tired breath. When a lonely cloud dragged across the bright star in the sky and the cemetery was consumed in shadows I breathed out a thanks. It was the first shade I'd had all day.

A cool wind ruffled the once still trees, sending down a shower of dead leaves. The air dropped dramatically all at once and I froze, mid-step next to the rubble of the old church. Fear took hold. I looked from side to side, glancing over my shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of a wandering spirit. My stomach churned with sick anticipation. I wanted to break out into a run until I found myself safe in the impala but my legs were rubber. A chill shot up my lower back and wound slick, bony fingers into my head. I was caught in a silent scream.

_Leah._

I searched the empty graves. Nothing.

_Leah._

I spun around a few times in hopes of locating the eerie voice. It felt so close but it sounded like it was coming from everywhere; from beneath the ground, crying out from the graves, floating along the crisp summer's air.

_Winchester._

A flurry of lights near my feet caught my attention. For a moment I was able to pull myself away from the voice and notice the EMF meter in my hand. The lights danced wildly from left to right, never halting in their movement. I wasn't an expert ghost hunter, but I knew enough to know that something wasn't right.

_Death by twilight._

Clutching the EMF meter I steadied the thrashing of my heart and tore down the hill as fast as I could. The tombstones created a bit of an obstacle course and more than once the unprotected parts of me caught against their rough surface. It didn't matter though. I kept up the run and didn't let out until I saw the familiar black sheen of the old Chevy coming down the road.


	9. Chapter 8: Part 3

**Author's Note:** Hurray! The final part…of chapter 8. Lol, you think I was finished just yet? Come on. Anyway, hope you guys are all comfy. Buckle those seatbelts because this story is about to take some rough turns in the next few pages. I've been waiting to get this one out there. Hope you enjoy it, I'm not sure how it came out really I'm still on the fence with this one. Maybe it seems a bit out there or rushed, I don't know. You tell me. As always thanks for the reviews and don't forget to comment on this one!

**Disclaimer:** Okay, you got me. I don't own Supernatural. The jig is up. Sam, Dean, get out of my basement. And take Kripke with you.

**Crash Course**

**By:Babyhilts**

**Chapter 8: Part 3**

_**Though I never came from Kansas, don't forget to thank the cook  
Which reminds me of my duty, I was lost but now I look  
For the turning and the signpost and the road which takes you down  
To that pool inside the forest in whose waters I shall drown  
I'm not a humble pilgrim - there's no need to scrape and squeeze  
And don't beg for silver paper when I'm trying to sell you cheese**_

**The Devil Came From Kansas :Keith Reid**

The roast beef sandwich didn't taste as good as I thought it would. Brown chunks of meat slid out from between the two layers of bread and mustard, onto a pile of untouched fries. Sam watched me from across the table next to Dean. I could feel him sizing up the situation. The uneaten meal, the tremor in my voice and the anxiety that leaked from ever open pore on my body. I forced my mouth around the soggy bread and swallowed even though my stomach cried out that it couldn't handle the food at the moment.

"You said the EMF meter went out of whack?" Dean continued to press the issue one more time. He sat over his greasy plate of onions and steak, the devoured remains of a baked potato and a few partially eaten carrots, demanding I explain once again how things went down in the cemetery that afternoon.

"Yes, it was fine until I started to leave and then it just started lighting up like crazy. I don't know why."

"And then all of a sudden it just stopped. For no reason at all?" He cocked his head questioningly and shoveled another forkful of steak.

"Yes."

When I'd caught up to the impala on the dirt road, I'd made sure to slow down my horror movie run. It wouldn't have looked too good on my Ghost Buster résumé if they found out I'd taken off out of a cemetery, in the daylight, when all that had showed up was a toothless old man, and a broken EMF. Oh, and the small detail of the whispering winds. I also chose to leave that out. I wasn't sure why I didn't tell either of the Winchester's. I guess it's true, hindsight is 20/20.

"I don't see how that can really justify going back there tonight." Dean polished off his beer.

Sam nodded before adding "He's right. You might have just stepped under a power line you missed when you first got there. That could explain why the EMF meter started flashing."

"Well, what about all those stories. Those local stories people have been telling for the past thirty years? You guys are just going to forget those too?"

Stop. Leah, what are you doing? I wanted to kick myself because this wasn't me talking anymore. Since when did I care whether or not Sam and Dean found the boogeymen and saved the town of Stull? Only two hours ago I was running for my life down a back country road because of a couple of none –life –threatening occurrences that as far as the Winchesters were concerned were nothing at all. If they weren't worried, then I shouldn't be either. Just leave it. Case closed. That's it. But that annoying voice was back and it was gnawing at my gut. Call it instincts or whatever, something had kicked in and I knew that like it or not, I had to follow it.

"Yeah, for now we'll forget them. Sam and I will be staying in town for another week, if we can't dig anything up by then than we can close this case and hit the road."

"Close the case and hit the road? You guys barely did any research for this" I protested.

"Yeah, tell that to the stack of archives at the library."

"I'm serious. How can you just forget about this town so fast."

"Leah…"

I could feel myself getting frustrated. "No, I was out there today. You didn't see what I saw. You didn't feel what I felt."

"Leah, to be honest, you didn't see anything either."

I shot an accusing glance at Sam. I dropped my roast beef sandwich. I wanted to jump out of the booth, hit the restaurant floor and just start kicking and screaming like I was five again. Maybe then I'd get my way. Maybe I'd even get ice cream after.

"You're siding with him too?" I couldn't believe this.

"No one is siding with anyone" Dean said. "It's just this legend, it's probably nothing but a prank that's been told over and over again too many times for the towns liking. I understand you want to check this thing out some more. You think there's something there because the EMF told you, but I've had it do the same thing to me on other hunts. It's not the most accurate detection."

"I felt something up there Dean. I…I just know okay. We have to keep looking into this."

"And we will"Sam reassured. "But you gotta realize that this is probably a bust."

"Then why would your dad send us here. He had a reason. He wouldn't just send us here for no reason."

No one said anything to that. They shared a look that I couldn't decipher. Dean returned to his steak and potato but I refused to eat anymore of the cold food. My stomach was doing somersaults, clenching and unclenching anxiously beneath the white fabric of my dress. Sam reached forward when my eyes had wandered to the parking lot and he took my right hand in his. He closed his strong, callused fingers around mine and forced my attention to his face.

" I don't know what to expect with this town Leah. Our dad, he's sent us on a few bogus hunts in the past." Dean shot Sam a look. "But, maybe you're right. For now let's just finish our meal and tomorrow we'll go check it out, together."

I shook my head. "Tonight. We should go tonight."

"Missouri's expecting us for ten. We have to leave in a few minutes."

"She won't mind. Tonight is when we should check out the cemetery."

"Leah" Dean smirked. "The cemetery will still be there tomorrow. Come on, eat up."

I tore my hand away from Sam's and shot the older Winchester a dirty look. "I'm not seven; don't patronize me like I am."

Dean looked surprised by the outburst. Sam recovered with a "Leah, he didn't mean anything…"

"Don't. Don't try to fix this. Why won't you guys just believe me? I've gone along with everything you wanted the past week and you guys can't check this one thing out for me? I mean it's your hunt! I don't need to be here. I'm trying to help you. How come you won't let me help?"

Sam grabbed my hand once more. "Leah, come on now…"

I pulled away. "Don't! Okay, just don't anymore Sam. I'm not a child, I can handle this on my own. Forget that I even mentioned the cemetery. If you guys don't want to check it out then don't. I mean who cares right?"

I inched my way out of the booth, because there's no cool way to just get out of one of those tight spaces in a rage and still keep your dignity. I slid out and pulled down my dress that had begun to rise up my thigh.

"Where are you going?" Dean called to me as I stomped across the diner.

"Bathroom."

A few of the locals turned to watch as I grunted and cursed my way across the dirty linoleum and into the women's washroom. It was a single stall room, which I was glad for. I locked the door and nearly sank to my knees as the metal sounded out that reassuring clicking sound. My body wanted to cave in on itself. There was this overwhelming feeling of frustration and anger reaching it's boiling point within me. I felt like I was having one of those hormonal moments I'd witness my mother go through when I was a teenager.

Shaky hands ran through my sweat coated locks. Tears broke through the dams and I sat on the floor of the bathroom, sobbing quietly into my hands. Why was I being such a drama queen about this? They'd agreed to search the place with me tomorrow, which should have been good enough. Course, nothing was good enough for me lately. No, that wasn't it. It wasn't that it wasn't good enough, it was that feeling that wouldn't go away. It had been there all throughout supper. From the moment I left the cemetery something had been urging me to go back, get another look. I wouldn't call it dumb curiosity, although going back would be a dumb move on my part. I'd heard that voice. That eerie warning drifting across stale air. I'd felt the drop in the temperature cut through me like a driven nail. Something was in Stull cemetery waiting for the Winchesters. Waiting for me.

I lifted myself from off the floor and stumbled in front of the small mirror. With the help of a rubber band tied about my wrist, I pulled my blonde hair into a high ponytail atop my head. The tears of confusion and doubt had dried on my face, leaving trails through the blush I'd added a few hours earlier. I wiped away any signs of weakness and rubbed the redness away from my eyes. I had to be strong. I couldn't start to fall apart now. I'd come this far already to not give up now.

I chanted this mantra over and over inside my head as I approved of my appearance. The blade still shifted around next to my leg. I tapped the side of my right boot for security. If Dean and Sam wanted to keep waiting for something more conclusive than that's what they could do. I wasn't sitting around any longer waiting for something to happen. Waiting to wake up. Waiting to find out why I was in this strange new world. Waiting was all I'd been doing lately and I was sick of it. There was a reason for me being here, for finding myself with the Winchester's in Stull and the cemetery might be the answer to all my problems. I couldn't be sure, but I had to know. I had to get rid of that gnawing in the pit of my stomach.

I stepped out of the bathroom with fierce determination set in place. This was it. I scanned the restaurant and found Dean at the counter paying for the check. Sam was finishing off the last of his beer, while my plate sat full, and untouched.

"Sorry boys" I said to no one but myself and walked past the crowd entering the restaurant and disappeared into the parking lot.

* * *

The walk to the cemetery wasn't a very long one. The town was small and because of this, things were more bunched together and easier to access on foot. I briskly stepped onto the dirt road that Dean had dropped me off on earlier that day. The same dirt road I'd bolted down like the devil himself was after me.

I stopped.

Besides the midnight sun and the glowing orbs of pale yellow that encompassed the bruised tapestry there wasn't much to help guide me through the dark. It also didn't help to ease any fears. I laughed out loud and trudged onward. Maybe the Winchester boys didn't want to go rampaging through a cemetery at night because they've got some hidden fears of the dark. I knew it wasn't true, obviously, but it was cute to think about them staying awake at night, a nightlight tucked in between their motel beds.

The cemetery wasn't that much further. The closer I came, the colder the air seemed to become. I wished I'd stolen a flashlight from Deans Chevy, maybe even a shotgun loaded with rock salt. I'd only used a shotgun once in my life and I knew it would take more than that one time to help me in using one again. Besides, I still wasn't sure what it was that lurked in the shadows of old Stull cemetery.

The creaking of the metal gate broke the stillness of night. The breath hitched in my throat. I rubbed my hands vigorously against my arms in hopes of generating some warmth. The moon shone above the graves, casting down ebony demons that lay beneath sheets of white fog. I bent down and pulled the blade out from my boot. The sheath I left alone, but the knife I kept close to my chest. Whatever was in there better think twice before messing with this chick.

No patrol cars or local worshippers of the holy ground were positioned outside. I didn't hear the slick engine of a vehicle running or the approach of footsteps, so I figured it was my lucky day. At least I wouldn't be bothered or arrested. If I got arrested in this world, would it appear on my record in Vancouver?

I slipped through the gate and started up the path through the long, ankle high grass. It was wet with dew and stained my boots a darker brown. I ignored the shadows that shot up from the let and right of me. If I dared let my eyes stray, even for just a moment, my imagination would get the better of me and I'd start to loose control of the situation. I wasn't planning on stalking up and down through the aisles of tombstones again. No, it was the remains of the old church that had a hold on me. It was there when the EMF started to react, when the temperature dropped and when I heard that voice call out to me. Call out for the Winchesters and call out for death.

My grip tightened around the handle of the knife. I stopped five feet from the pile of cement and wood. Nothing happened. Part of me expected something to jump out from beneath the pile of rubble as soon as I got within scaring range and then I'd run off like I had before. But, there wasn't anything waiting for me. I planted my feet firmly in the grass and held the blade away from me. Loose, yet firmly prepared. I scanned the small space around me. Thick bush surrounded the outer limits of the cemetery. The metal gate whined as it swung in the light breeze. A chill ran through me. I thought I heard the shuffling of feet. I spun around on the back of my heel but nothing was behind me. I was alone.

I was seriously doubting coming out to the cemetery. What an idiot I'd look like when I showed up back at the restaurant, a sweating mess, explaining to the two Winchester men that I wanted to go hunt some ghosts.

"Idiot" I muttered out loud.

I dragged my feet recklessly through the grass, carving a trail behind myself. I circled around the remains of the church. I did this a few times, glancing up at the shifting of clouds in the sky, the full moon, and the stars. At least it was a nice night.

When I'd done one last survey of the cement by my feet I decided that this hunt truly was a bust and that it was time to head back and face my embarrassment with a grin. I bent down to fix the zipper of my right boot which had slid down when I'd taken out the blade. A splashing sound took me off guard as I rose to my feet. My heart thudded in my chest. When had there ever been a pond or lake, or pool for that matter in the cemetery? I held tight to blade as if it where a rosary.

Slowly, I turned around on the spot, but there was nothing.

"What the hell?"

_Leah._

I faltered in my movements. The voice came and died so suddenly I almost thought I was hearing things.

_Leah._

I heard it. I connected the sound with a direction and began to move cautiously backwards past the cement pile and towards the thick area of bush. As I walked the sky darkened more and more. The voice didn't call out again right away but I continued moving. The blade stuck out through the darkness and once or twice I cut through the ebony walls for good measure.

**_Splash_.**

I looked to my feet and found myself standing ankle deep in water. Murky and dark, it swirled around my Swede boots. I searched the space around me. I turned to go back but I didn't see any way back. I stared at the surrounding trees, the endless dark; the suffocating dark. I wanted to scream for help, but who would hear my cries this far out? Had I really wandered that far? Panic escalated as did my heart rate. One hand I pressed firmly against my chest, the other shook as it held the blade.

_Leah._

I spun in circles, trying desperately to locate the voice now.

_Leah!_

I jumped back and landed on my butt in the water. The blade slipped into the mud next to my waist. Was the water getting deeper? The trees shifted from a sudden wind. It ruffled my tied air and blew a deathly chill through my thin dress. I searched hastily through the water for the weapon. My fingers dug deep into the mud. I felt the water slosh around near my elbows. It was growing deeper. I felt tears of frustration trickle down the length of my face. I called myself stupid for coming out here. I wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go.

My palm rubbed against the wrong end of the blade. I grimaced at the slight pain and searched until I had a hold of the handle. A thin trail of blood escaped from a minor cut. I ignored it and clutched the blade to my chest. The water was rising. I couldn't move. The water was cold but it had a scalding effect on me. I shivered and moaned against the discomfort and tried to stand up once more. I failed and landed forward on my knees. Water splashed upwards and soaked my chest and face.

_Leah._

I tightened my grip.

_Leah!_

The anger and fear clashed at once and without thinking I whipped the blade through the night and to where I heard the voice. A moment after, when I realized what I'd done, I began to panic even more. Although there wasn't much time for me to worry about the blade.

The water around my knees stirred by some unseen force. I looked down at the movement. I thought I felt something brush against my left hand. I was right. In mere seconds a grip like no other took hold of both my wrists. I struggled against the force pulling me into the depths of the murky water below. It was rising and was up to my chest. I cried out and pulled harder. I looked to the sky for help but there was nothing there. Another thrust from below the water and my head was submerged into the black.

I held my breath, but I hadn't thought to do it soon enough. The yelling I'd done just before I'd gone under had left me open to swallowing a lot of it and I had barely enough air left in me to hold out for long.

Whatever had pulled me down continued to do so. I felt my knees sinking deeper and deeper in to the mud and I feared that if the supernatural being responsible for this didn't stop soon, I'd end up submerged in the thick mass of dirt, buried alive, next. I tugged harder and accidentally breathed in through my nose. The water burned the length of my throat as it filled my lungs. I wanted to scream because my chest was about to burst. I didn't stop struggling, but soon I was about to drown or pass out from exhaustion and lack of air.

I managed to free one of my hands, but the thing holding onto the other, held tight to its last limb and wasn't going to let it go without a fight. I thrashed my head back and forth in the thicket of the growing pond in hopes of breaking for air. Please God, if you do this one thing for me, I'll never ask you for anything else. I hoped the prayer could be heard from beneath the water.

Another minute went by, but I wasn't sure if it was really that long. Time seemed to stretch on forever when you were drowning. Why wasn't I dead yet? I struggled once more, giving it all I had and then the water entered my lungs. My body started to go limp. I could no longer feel my arms or legs and I knew I was dying. I would drown here in this pond and that would be it.

As the water filtered in through my mouth and nose, I breathed in more and more, hoping to find oxygen in the process. My mind became a dizzying mess of jumbled thoughts and last requests. I thought of Caitlyn and my mother and wondered if when I died, if I would wake up with them. A minute later everything went black.

* * *

Cold. It was the first thing I noticed as I stirred back to consciousness. It wasn't quite as dark where I was. I was lying on my side in the grass. Water ran down my face and I picked up the minor detail that I was soaking wet. The first few minutes where I came to, I wasn't too sure where I was or what had happened. To be honest, I had no real recollection of anything up until earlier that morning when Dean dropped me off at _La Femme Boutique_ to pick out an outfit.

I craned my neck downward and took in the new white dress and brown boots. When had I bought these? Why couldn't I remember anything?

I tried to move my body but I found it nearly impossible. The pain was all consuming and there was a dull throbbing at the back of my head. Hot tears escaped my eyes. I shivered uncontrollably in spite of the cold and curled my knees into my chest. I breathed in air like I hadn't tasted it in years. A burning sensation circulated through my chest and lungs. I coughed in agony and whimpered in confusion.

_Leah._

My eyes widened. I searched the dark fearfully. In a rush, the events of the past few hours played back in my head. The cemetery, Dean and Sam at the restaurant, drowning. I was alive, that was a good sign, but why?

I wrapped my arms protectively about my torso and decided not to move. If I didn't move then whatever it was wouldn't find me. It was that same theory that if you hid under your blanket, the monsters under the bed wouldn't know you were there. It was just common sense. This time I felt more open. I couldn't run, I could hardly move and I was helpless. If something wanted to take me, it could and I'd be unable to stop it.

_Leah._

"Please…please no" I whispered, my voice hoarse and pleading.

_Winchester._

I shielded my face with my hands and pulled into myself. I dragged my hands roughly across my cheeks in hopes of shooing away the voice. I shook with fear and with the rising cold that never seemed to fade away.

The quick movement of approaching feet sounded behind me. I trembled harder and tried to move. A hand latched onto to my shoulder. I cried out and swung tiredly at my attacker. The movement pulled me backwards and I ended up panting on my back. The hand pulled back but soon there was another that joined it and I felt both of them come together to wrap about my arms. I shuddered and tried my best to pull free.

"No…don't please…please don't…no…" I mumbled the words over and over, hoping they would get through to whoever held onto me.

"Leah?" A warm hand brushed away some of my damp hair. I opened my eyes and took in a familiar face. Illuminated only by the moon, I recognized it as Sam, holding my arms protectively in his grasp. "What happened?"

I shook my head. "Please…"

Sam shushed me and I didn't bother to come back with a defense. I couldn't.

"Dean! I found her." I jumped at the noise and Sam came back with a "It's alright, just relax. We got you now, okay?"

I nodded and bit my lip in hopes of holding in the tears. Another set of shuffling feet carried through the air. My heart skipped a beat before I caught sight of Dean stalking towards us, shotgun in hand. When he made eye contact with Sam he picked up the pace until he was kneeling down next to his brother. He placed the shotgun on the ground and turned to face me. I saw the worry etched in his face. He took me in with wide eyes and pushed his younger brother out of the way.

"Jesus, are you okay?" I nodded. My teeth chattered. "You're shivering. When did you go swimming?"

Dean pulled off his leather jacket as he tried to make light of the situation, but even his jokes were half forced and laced with concern. He pulled the jacket like a towel about my wet form and rubbed it against my arms.

"I drowned" I croaked.

"What?"

"She just told you Sammy."

"Dean there aren't any sources of water around here for miles."

"Well what do you think happened? She's soaked right through."

I latched a tired hand on Dean's arm. He met my gaze and I struggled out a smile.

"I heard it."

"Heard what, Leah?" Sam edged forward. I turned to him now.

"A voice. It called out to me. Called out for the both of you. That's why I came back."

"Why didn't you tell us this?"

"There's something I have to tell you."

Dean nodded knowingly and smiled. "That's all fine and dandy, but how about after we get you cleaned up. You'll catch pneumonia out here if we don't get you somewhere warm."

Before I could protest Dean picked me up in his arms and held me close to his chest. I felt the fatigue come over me once again and I rested my head against him, listening to the soft, rhythmic beating of his heart. Sam followed suite and grabbed the shotgun, taking the lead as we exited the cemetery. Dean was saying something to me about being stupid and wandering off to be some macho hero, I wasn't really paying attention. I closed my eyes and was on the verge of passing out when I was placed in the back seat of the impala.

"Sam you drive. I've got to warm her up."

I heard the doors slam shut and the car jerked forward onto the road. I felt Dean remove the jacket and slowly felt an itchy, wool blanket take its place. I snuggled further into the material. The older Winchester raised me to a sitting position and gave me a quick shake.

"Sorry Leah, but you can't sleep just yet."

"Dean…"

"No."

"I'm tired." I closed my eyes. Dean shook me once more.

"I know. I fell through the ice once when I took Sammy skating. I know what the cold does to you but you gotta fight it, okay? Just for a few minutes until we get back to Missouri's."

"That's not a few minutes" I whined childishly.

Dean laughed before lowering his voice. "Hey, were you serious about what you said? About telling us the truth?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I am. Just promise you won't leave."

"Leave? Leah, what are you…"

"Promise" I pleaded.

"I promise I'll stick around. Why are you so worried?"

"Can you put on the tape player? I'd like to listen to some Zeppelin."

Dean didn't push the subject after that. He leaned forward and searched through his box of tapes and handed one of them to Sam who objected at first but reluctantly played it. I eased back into Dean's chest, singing the lyrics over in my head as a way of forcing myself to stay awake. Things continued like this until we pulled into Missouri's driveway.


	10. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** _It's been a while since I updated and I'm so so so sorry. Hope you guys are still enjoying this and hopefully I've passed my bit of writers block.. The beginning I find is a little rough and I'm not too happy with it, grahhhh, anywho here it is, just for you guys. Enjoy and as always review :D Oh and I'd like to thank Ty3 whose comment in her review inspired a short moment in this chappie and hun, I'm still reading your story I'm a few chapters behind but I'm trying to catch up, so keep it up. Love it! Anyway, on with the show!_

_**Disclaimer:** Me? Own Supernatural? Ha, ya right._

**Crash Course**

**By: Babyhilts **

**Chapter 9:**

_Been Dazed and Confused for so long it's not true.  
Wanted a woman, never bargained for you.  
Lots of people talk and few of them know,  
soul of a woman was created below_.Led Zeppelin

Sleep was wrapping about me like a warm blanket and were it not for the bumbling voice of Dean Winchester humming above me then I'd have given into it. The cold had cut through right to my bones, I didn't think it was possible to be that cold, but then again, I was now living proof that one could. Zeppelin sung their rock classic through the speakers of the old Chevy, while Dean mimicked their tone and mumbled a few lyrics as backup. He held his arms protectively about my waist, pulling my shivering form closer towards him. One arm never left, the other wandered now and then along the length of my right shoulder, running his hand vigorously against the wool. It scratched and at times when I was almost unconscious it hurt but I never told him to stop and I never complained. I just lay there, teeth chattering and mind reeling.

The impala sped down the empty back roads that marked the town of Stull. In quick flashes of shadowed trees and darkened houses did the small burg pass us by. Sam never released his foot from the accelerator. His eyes wandered once towards the rearview mirror but they were empty, thoughtful perhaps. Dean had caught the look. I felt his body shift and he pulled me closer. Zeppelin rose another octave and the car jumped as the tires hit a dip in the road.

A sickness was creeping into the pit of my stomach. I clutched the edge of the blanket weakly between my hands. There was a slight pressure on my shoulder. I tried to look back. Hurriedly my eyes tried to scan the space behind me. My head jerked backwards and came into contact with Dean's chin. I grimaced at the sound of his teeth clamping loudly together.

"Whoa, easy tiger. Just relax, huh."

There was movement from the driver's seat. The impala took a sharp turn and I clung desperately to Dean. A whispered curse reached my ears. Things grew hazy for a moment. Warmth and silence settled in, chasing away the cold and then Dean shook me.

"What's wrong Dean?" Sam called out from the front.

"Besides your driving?"

"Ha ha, very funny."

"Nothing is wrong Sammy, you just keep your foot on the gas." Things grew quiet a moment and Dean lowered his head and whispered gently in my ear "You still cold?"

That was the understatement of the year. Could he not feel my entire body trembling in his arms? Or did he think it was the normal reaction for every girl who came into contact with Dean Winchester?

"Freezing" I bit out. Dean nodded and continued to try and generate heat in my arm.

Although there was this dense fog that had crept into my head since leaving the cemetery, which I attributed mainly to the cold, I couldn't help but let my mind continue to race with questions. After all the time I'd spent lying and hiding my true self from the Winchester's here I was, riding back to Lawrence, about to spill my guts about everything. Suddenly, the whole, being honest thing wasn't looking so easy anymore. I mean how do you explain to two men that 'Hey, I've been following your life on Tv for the past year and well, I've had dreams about you before you met me and I've taped like every hunt since you collected Sam at Stanford and have watch each one five times over.' I know what the response would be. 'Leah appears to be cuckoo fro coa-coa puffs lets ship her to the padded cell.'

The Chevy slowed down and the vehicle inched it's way into a turn. The familiar crunch of gravel beneath the tires soon ensued and Dean was ripping the wool blanket off of me. The cold hit me like whiplash. I bit back a groaned and slammed my eyes shut. Water still ran down in rivulets along my legs from where it had absorbed into the white fabric of my new dress. I moved my toes inside the Suede boots. They were numb. A squish, squish sound filled the impala when I struggled to bring them back to life. I wanted to move, to sit up and figure out why the car was no longer moving, but I felt powerless and drained. A minute ago I could have kept an intelligent conversation but that was a minute earlier and I didn't trust the strength of my voice.

Dean lifted my body off his chest. I rose into a seated position with his hand pressed firmly against the small of my back to steady me. Sam turned the ignition over and Zeppelin faded into the night. The last of the heat died out. I shuddered and felt the uncomfortable torture of never finding warmth creeping in fast. The driver's door opened, a rush of air entered and Sam was gone too. I gasped and tried to fall back into the seat where I knew some of the body heat Dean and I had formed still resided.

"Come on Leah, were home." I felt him fiddling behind me but I wasn't sure with what. I didn't bother to try and keep my weight off him, I was too tired, too cold, too scared to care about anything. I let my body sag backwards. Dean huffed and pushed me forward a bit more. "Leah, help a guy out, huh?"

"I can't…"

"Don't." His voice was firm and he roughly pushed me forward and off his chest. The steadying hand disappeared. It felt even colder. "I can't take a chick flick moment right now."

I smirked and through chattering teeth responded. "Is that what this is?"

Dean looked back. Through the darkness I could see the outline of disheveled hair and broad shoulders. I saw him still in his movements and turn back to me. "You tell me."

I faltered. "I… don't know."

"Well I do" he grabbed something from off the impala's floor and pushed the back door open. A head of shaggy hair and an awkwardly long frame appeared in the doorway. Dean laughed harshly "here's the queen of chick flick moments."

"Dean…"

"Sam take this, it's Leah's change of clothes. I got a handle of things. Go, get Missouri."

Sam disappeared, plastic bag in his hands. The cold was seeping into the car and I wanted nothing more than to pull away and hide underneath the wool blanket with Dean holding me. As if it took a near death experience for the guy to lighten up. That and a set of heels.

"White definitely wasn't a good choice" Dean smirked, his face inches away from my own. I turned towards him, taking in a deep breath, breathing in the smell that was Dean Winchester. I looked down at the dress and through the bit of light that emanated from a nearby lamppost I caught the familiar color of my black panties. I looked closer and there was the matching bra and my skin shone through the translucent fabric in a light, pink tint. Now, I was feeling a bit warmer. "Don't worry. Black looks good on you."

I glared at the hunter but there was barely any emotion behind it, I just didn't care. What done was done, I just wanted the moment to end and to disappear into the house. Dean's hands wandered forward and he tugged at the hem of my dress. I pulled back, surprised that my body responded.

"Easy," I quieted and watched as the bit of dress that had rose nearly to my hip was pulled back at an appropriate length. "Thought I'd save us both another peep show."

"Thanks."

Dean nodded. "Come on, let's get you inside. I'm sure Sam's got Missouri in a twist by now, so it should be exciting."

I felt his arms slid beneath my back and behind my knees as he lifted me off the upholstery and out of the car. I shivered and instinctively threw my arms about his neck. The moment I did so, I tensed. Dean shut the back door and laughed.

"I'm not that bad am I?"

"I don't know, you tell me?"

We made our way up the driveway. I slid around in his grasp and when I did, Dean only tightened the hold he had on me.

"You really gotta stop doing that" he was saying.

"Stop doing what?"

"Trying to out smartass me. It can really bruise a man's ego."

"Well, I'll try to keep that in mind next time I'm around a man."

"Here I am, pulling a real life knight in shining armor moment that most chicks would die for and you can't even go easy on me for one moment."

I laughed. "The knight in shining armor never rescued the damsel with a shotgun filled with rocksalt and he sure as hell never rode off into the sunset with her in his Chevy Impala with Zeppelin playing."

"I'm the new and improved model."

I went to force out another remark when the sound of heavy footsteps broke through my reverie. I twisted in Dean's arms but found it difficult as he never loosened his grip. A long stream of light attacked my eyes. I held them close. Dean's leather boots thumped against a set of stairs and I knew we were on the porch.

"Dean Winchester, you stop running your mouth off and get that poor girl inside right this minute."

Dean tensed slightly and muttered something about always being blamed for everything as we stepped across the porch. Missouri, I assumed moved in behind us and as we entered the house shut the door behind herself.

"Don't you sass me boy." We paused. "What are you doing? Get her out of those clothes and into something warm. I'll draw a bath. Well, what are you waiting for? Go."

Dean moved before he could be told again. We went up the stairs and were halfway down the hall when I asked to be let down. I was feeling a bit better now that we were home and safe inside the house. Dean hesitated a moment but reluctantly set me on my feet. I swayed a moment. I propped myself against the wall, ignoring the look the older Winchester gave me.

"I don't want you changing me" I grounded out. Dean smirked.

"You sure? I think it could be fun."

"That's your lower brain thinking then."

Cautiously I made my way into the bedroom. Dean stopped me mid step.

"I said, I could change myself Winchester…" I turned around and caught that worried look on Dean's face again. He didn't say anything for a moment, just held my gaze. There was a foots distance between us and in one swift movement, he filled that space. My breath hitched and my chest tightened. I played with the wet fabric of my dress. Dean must have noticed my wandering fingers because he soon had them in his hands, keeping them still. I smirked and looked up. He wasn't smirking.

"I thought you didn't want any chick flick moments"

He shook his head. "I'm just holding your hands."

"Why?" I whispered. Dean smiled.

"I don't know?"

"Dean…"

"Look, what happened tonight…back at the restaurant and at the cemetery, whatever that was…I'm…"

"Don't. Not now."

I hated myself, but I tugged my hands out of his. I couldn't handle Dean trying to apologize and that's exactly what I assumed he was doing. Not after all the cold shoulders he'd given me, I couldn't take the sudden kindness, the kindness he shared with his brother. He was getting soft because of the accident and only because of the accident and I couldn't let myself get sucked into that too. Not with all that was happening, I was already too dysfunctional since crashing the Jetta, that forming a bond with Dean would just put the rest of my mind out of whack. Besides, in another minute when he found out everything I'd been keeping secret, I was sure we'd just be back right where we started. Cold shoulders and sarcastic remarks.

"Don't what?"

Why couldn't he leave this alone? I just wanted to get a change of clothes and spill my guts, then just be left alone.

"Don't do what I know you were going to do."

"What was I going to do?"

I shook my head. "I'm going to get changed. When I get out we can talk about what I mentioned earlier at the cemetery."

"Maybe you should relax first. It can wait till morning…"

"No it can't Dean. Not anymore."

I drifted into the spare room where Sam had taken my bag of clothes the day before. The door closed quietly behind me and I felt relief wash through my worn down body. Dean was getting to be a handful. One minute he was Mr. Bi-polar and couldn't trust me at all and then suddenly I almost drown and he can't help but want to make sure I'm okay. I was glad that he was letting his guards down but it wasn't because he had learnt to trust me, it was because he was putting the blame on himself. I could sense it in the apology. It wasn't his fault. I'd been the idiot who ran out to the cemetery. Not him. I had refused to go in the daylight, with two skilled hunters.

I ran over to the bed and took a seat on the soft mattress. I let my eyes wander over the items in the room. There was a torn and beaten black duffel bag sitting in the far corner. A shirt I was familiar with Dean wearing hung out the top and I realized I was in his room. My own set of bags sat beside his. The baggy sweatpants looked unbelievably comfortable at the moment as did the cheap tops I'd bought a few days earlier.

Combing a hand through my wet hair I got up in a rush to collect the items. I must have moved faster than I thought. The room spun around me. I staggered forward and grabbed out at the bedside table. The lamp, the only lighting in the room at the moment, wobbled uneasily on the wooden surface. I breathed out a sigh of relief as the feeling of vertigo dissipated.

Slowly and cautiously, I straightened myself from the protective hunch that I'd fallen in and inched my way towards the bags. I searched through until I found the grey sweats and a loose fitting t-shirt. I piled them into the crook of my arm and scrounged around for some undergarments before heading back towards the bed. I'd taken a little more than two steps when the vertigo came again. Full force, it knocked me off balance and I stumbled backwards. I caught my footing and gasped. A tightening commenced in my chest. I started off bad and only got worse the longer I stayed still. I waited for it to pass, but it didn't. A minute passed but it felt like forever, just one, agonizingly stretched out moment in time. A pain erupted in the back of my head. I tried to scream out, for help, for Dean, but all that came was a whimper. The tightening increased suddenly and again I lost my balance. The room spun. The walls were tilting, crashing down onto the floor, while the ceiling turned upside down. I couldn't breathe through the constriction in my chest and I panicked just as I had done outside the restaurant the day Dean helped me to knock over my orange juice. I sucked in hurried breaths and stumbled backwards. My calves and butt fell into the front of the bedside table. The lamp was jolted too hard and as I stumbled forward, it rolled of the table and hit the carpet, the bulb shattering on impact. The room fell into darkness. I continued to stumble forward. In an attempt to stop myself, I felt my feet and ankles intertwine and I unintentionally tripped myself.

"Leah!"

I heard my voice shouted but didn't stay conscious long enough to know who had said it. The door to the room opened and I felt myself falling into darkness.

* * *

The darkness didn't seem to last very long. I struggled to open my eyes and forced myself to sit up. I searched around me for whoever had called out my name just before everything went black, but no one was there. I was alone.

I got to my feet and was taken aback with fear. I wasn't even in the same room, I wasn't in Kansas anymore. Where was Sam? Where was Dean? I rushed forward, out of the empty room. I staggered into a white hallway. Just white. No chairs or carpet, just white everywhere, there weren't any doors or windows. I turned to go back to where I'd woken up, but when I did the room wasn't there. I was alone.

I wrapped my arms protectively about my chest, shivering through the cold that still lingered inside my body. I paced the hallway for a few minutes, searching like a wild animal for a way out. I felt like I was being watched the entire time and it unnerved me even more. This wasn't right. How had I gotten here so fast?

A rush of cold air shot past my face. I turned on my heel towards the opposite end of the hall. There was no end anymore but a gaping doorway with light at the end. It felt very cliché to say the least and I half expected Grandma Carlson standing at the end telling me to 'step into the light' but it never happened. I wasn't sure going into the light would be my best option but at the moment it looked as though it was my only one.

I ventured forward, my boots echoing their walk down the empty hall. I reached the doorway with a surge of apprehension and entered. I was in the hospital room once again, the monitors beeping and the IV sticking out of my arm. I was staring down at my unconscious form draped in that tacky white and blue polka dotted hospital gown. I went around the side of the bed and hovered over my body. I was getting used to seeing myself like this but something wasn't right. How long had I been unconscious like this? The doctor had told Caitlyn that I'd be okay. Maybe a bit of brain damage or memory loss, but okay just the same. Okay as in I'd live. Why was I still on life support? There were tubes stuck down my throat and the machine pumping air into my lungs. I should be off it by now. Why wasn't I?

Suddenly, I felt myself blown back. My body shifted through the medical machines they had me hooked up and I hit the wall with a solid thud. I slid to the floor, the air knocked from my lungs. Sucking in oxygen desperately, I heard a disturbing sound from my bed. When I looked up I heard gasping and saw my unconscious body struggling beneath the binding sheets. My body nearly lifted itself off the bed, while my head thrashed from side to side. Stumbling to my feet I got a closer look and realized with horror that something was screwing around with me. The tubes stuck in my throat were being jerked around. I could see myself trying and failing to breath without the machine, while at the same time I choked on the medical equipment. The tubes sticking outside moved around by some unseen force. I moved forward to help save the real me when I was thrown back once again. I cried out as my back hit the wall. When I looked up I noticed a dark shadow standing over me. My first guess was a reaper, but what kind of reaper maliciously pulls someone off life support.

I stood once again and the shadow turned on me. Glowing, yellow eyes started at me. I felt myself frozen in place and watched helplessly as the monster viciously tore the tubes from my throat. I stood there and watched my body trying to hold onto life, while at the same time I felt a burning of pain deep within my own throat.

The shadow stared at me from across the room. The door to the room was thrown open and a doctor escorted by two nurses flanked my thrashing form on the bed. The shadow smirked and stepped towards me, unnoticed by the medical staff. He took a stance in front of me, the smell of sulfur was suffocating. The eyes burning.

"Stop meddling with the Winchesters. They die at Stull. Or you." He turned and directed my attention to the bed where the doctors were trying to save me. "You die here."

In an instant that room cut out of focus. I realized the shadow has disappeared and I could vaguely make out the doctors and my bed before I was thrown back into darkness once more. It was a rush of darkness that I couldn't see through. I wasn't sure if my eyes were open or closed and I had to blink rapidly to know that I was still conscious. Then there was this wetness and a sudden feeling of warmth. I stilled a moment and felt the warm water slowly rising up the length of my body, when it reached my neck I panicked and struggled to get out. I was drowning again. It was all I could process. I kicked and moaned and through the darkness tried to prevent my head from going under. But, I wasn't going under.

"Leah…come on now…"

I heard myself moan but didn't realize I'd done it. There was a painful light cutting through my dark abyss. I squinted through it and heard a voice calling out to me again. As the light grew brighter, the voice grew louder and more clear.

"That's it. Open those baby blues."

My eyes fluttered and the first thing that appeared in my focus was Dean Winchester, his hands gripping my shoulders. I cleared the fog from my head and caught the worry in his eyes. When I looked down I was surprised to find myself in Missouri's bathtub, still in my white dress, submerged beneath the warm water. My teeth chattered noisily as I went to speak.

"What happened?"

"You tell me. I knew I should have helped you change" he forced a cocky grin but I didn't soothe me. "Relax, you're okay now. I found you on the floor, shivering and scooped you up and brought you in here. It might have been a bit of delayed shock from the cold. The water should clear it up some."

"Dean, it wasn't the cold."

"Don't tell me you tripped over yourself."

"Dean, I…" but I couldn't finish. I didn't know how to tell him what I saw. What had happened? I had to see Missouri, she could help. She'd know what to do and then I could explain it to the boys.

The door to the bathroom opened cautiously and I strained my neck to catch Sam standing in the doorway. He blushed and took a step forward.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Just giving Leah a bath" I rolled my eyes.

"Well, hurry it up. Missouri's a bit worried about you" Sam said pointing at me. "She says she's got something to tell you, so when you two are done, come downstairs."

"Okay, give us another twenty minutes."

"No" I shouted "were finished."

Sam laughed and closed the door.

"You okay?" Dean turned to me. I nodded.

"I'll be fine…"

"I know you'll be fine, but are you okay, is what I'm asking."

I hit him in the shoulder. "Chick flick" I moaned and struggled to my feet.

Dean helped me out of the tub and into a towel that was sitting nearby. Together we left the bathroom and made our way back towards the spare room where I'd left my clothes. I wasn't sure talking to Missouri would calm my nerves anymore tonight, as they were frazzled enough as it was but I knew I had to. I couldn't help thinking about it as Dean led me into the room and I got changed. I made certain to bypass the broken glass from the lamp and when I did I reminded myself of what the dark figure had said to me in the hospital room.

"Stop meddling with the Winchesters. They die at Stull. Or you die here."

I shivered involuntarily and hugged my arms around my chest. This wasn't going to get any better, was it?


	11. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Hope you all enjoy. Mostly an informational chapter but I have the next one already written up so by tonight or tomorrow I'll post and It's a good one. :D Hope you enjoy and as always review when your done. Thx once again everyone for the great comments. Loving it.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own supernatural.**

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**Chapter 10:**

Missouri was eyeing me from her perch on the overweight arm of her lazy boy. A flamboyant multicolored shawl draped lifelessly over the older woman's shoulders. Dull browns, faded oranges and tired reds intertwined with one another in an autumn burst of flavor that highlighted the dark undertones of Missouri's ebony face. Her eyes were hidden by a few loose curls that had escaped the purple hair tie. There was a depth to them I'd never seen before. The longer I stared into the chestnut orbs, the more afraid I became. She didn't try to force a smile when I began to form one. Did she know the smile I was amking was just a lie?

I wiped moist palms along the legs of my sweatpants. Knees folded in, hair still wet from twenty minutes earlier, it trickled cold water along the nape of my neck, dampening my shirt. I shivered and hugged my arms to my chest. I could feel someone watching me from the far end of the room. It was that uncomfortable feeling of complete nakedness. It was the feeling I received when I first met Missouri.

Cautiously I looked out across the room. Dean Winchester, the epitomy of sexy. The trouble hunter wrapped within an enigma. The hazel eyed rebel, dressed in that maroon shirt with the leather necklace and gold charm. He leaned awkwardly in the doorway to the living room. Steam circled above the opening of the red coffee mug in his hands. The comforting smell of green tea reached across the gap between us. It reminded me of home. Of mom and those lazy mornings before school.

I turned my gaze away from the older Winchester and to something else. Emotions, conflictions, worries, doubts, they bombarded me all at once. The tears were barely staying in. With all the strength I could muster, I held back those tears. I had to keep it together, not just for myself but for the Winchester's as well.

Missouri was still watching me when I raised my head but her had relaxed some and her eyes had softened. A sensual glow warmed her cheeks as she formed a sincere smile. Dean shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking apprehensively towards smile on the woman's face.

Dean eyes widened and he looked taken aback by Missouri's bluntness. His mouth hung open as if he were about to protest but he didn't have a chance. Missouri shifted in her chair and frowned at the younger man.

"Well, come on now. We're waiting one you."

Dean hesitated and moved forward but Missouri was like a dog who just kept nipping at his heels.

"Hurry it up a little before that tea's gone cold. I wont have everyone waiting for you to make me another one."

"You could always just nuke it" Dean mumbled as he place the mug on the small mahogany table next to Missouri. She frowned and her faced creased slightly.

"I wont be 'nuking' anything. And boy, where a re you manners? Use a coaster."

Missouri picked up a plastic disc from off the coffee table and placed the cup of tea on top of it. Her hand met Dean's unprotected arm with a slap before he pulled away towards Sam and I. He looked cautiously from Missouri to the couch and back again.

"Well go on, have seat."

Dean looked almost fit to be tied. Without a word he made his way to the vacant seat next to his brother. I felt the couch dip suddenly from the added weight and smirked when Dean let out a childish sigh.

Sitting in the lazy boy, Missouri sipped her tea without so much as a single word. I rubbed my clammy hands against one another nervously. Sam gave me the arched eyebrow 'what are you doing?' look but I only ignored it and continued to the sweat from one palm into the next. The silence that had suddenly taken hold of us was unbearable.

A squeaking sound was the first to break long period of stillness. All heads in the room turned to the source. At the opposite end of the couch Dean was shifting himself into the cushions. The sound was being made by the movement of the old couch spring. When the hunter finally grew aware to the fact that he had grabbed the attention of the room he paused, mid ass-groove formation.

"What? I'm trying to get comfortable."

Sam lowered his voice. "Could you do it a bit lowered?"

"A cocky smirk pulled at the corners of Dean's mouth and just to prove his point he moved himself around on the cushion some more. The couch gave a loud whine as the weight of Dean's rump dug into it's soft body. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dude."

"Awe, come on Sammy. It's not a library."

The hot mug of tea Missouri had been holding clinked as it came to rest on the end table. The sound was just loud enough to stir me away from the usual Winchester bantering. Missouri's hands were now still in her lap. Steam no longer wafted from the warm beverage. I felt my chest tighten a moment because all this meant that it was time to come clean. No more putting off the inevitable. I stared Missouri in the eyes and she mirrored the look. She smiled and gave me slow nod.

I knew what had to be done.

With a quick clearing of the throat I was able to grab the brothers attention. All eyes were now on me. I never did good under pressure. I thought back to Ms. Mackie's third grade Christmas pageant where I had to play one of the angels who came to visit baby Jesus. Ten minutes into the performance and I'd managed to desecrate our newborn Lord by upchucking all over the manger and the baby. Of course, it was just a cardboard cutout, painted to look like a manger and it was only an old cabbage patch doll, but still, the symbolism was there. Looking from Sam and Dean, I suddenly felt like that nauseous third grade all over again.

"Leah?"

I shook Sam's voice out of my head. I turned to Missouri for guidance but she was quiet, pulling the shawl closer to her chest.

"Just…give me a second, okay?"

Sighing, I took a long, uneven breath. Trembling hands combed back my wet hair. The sickness I'd felt in the impala earlier was returning. Raising my head high with false confidence, I peered out from my small corner of the couch.

"Look, there have been some things I told you…some thing I've said that weren't true."

Dean only nodded, quite aware that there'd been things I' been keeping from him. Sam on the other hand appeared a bit more disturbed by this new found information. His eyes darkened and I looked at him again.

"So, you've been lying to us?"

"Yes, but…"

"After all we did for you, you lied to us? We took you in. We protected you, Leah?"

I cringed at the hurt that came out when he spoke.

"I didn't want to. You more than anyone Sam, but I did it to protect myself. If I didn't lie you would have never agreed to take me along."

"So, you lied to get a ride from us?"

"No, that's not it at all."

"That's what you just said. I thought this sit down was so you'd stop lying."

"Sam!" Dean grounded out. "Give her a chance to explain herself.

The tone Dean used implied he was just as upset as his brother but was doing me a big favor by keeping his emotions in check. Suddenly those chick flick moments and saving me from the clutches of the supernatural didn't seem to mean a damn thing. We were right back where we started.

"Okay, um…there are a few things you should know, but…uh…"my attention wandered over to Missouri.

"Start at the beginning, hon."

"Okay, well I'm not from around here. I'm from Vancouver, Canada. Uh… that day you guys found me in Texas that was a mistake. I don't know how I got there."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"What I mean, is that I left my apartment in Vancouver around midnight, crashed my car, passed out and when I came to you guys were pulling me from the wreck."

"That's a bit Twilight Zone."

Sam ignored his brother. "How could you crash in Vancouver and end up in Texas? Right when were passing through no less. Doesn't that seem just a bit convenient?"

"That isn't all of it."

After all of my prepping and all the worrying, I still wasn't sure how to explain this. I mean, honestly, how do you put in words that two guy who barely know you star in their own television show in your world.

"What else is there?"

"Remember when we first met? I called you and Sam, Jared and Jensen." Dean nodded. "Well, I wasn't entirely wrong."

"How so?"

"The place where I'm from. In my Vancouver, I mean, you guys don't exist. You're just…well, fiction."

"What do you mean?" Who are Jensen and Jared?"

Dean's voice rose. I had to fight myself from running for the door. What would be the point anyway? Dean would catch me the minute my foot hit the carpet.

"Jared and Jensen are actors. They shoot a TV series up in Vancouver for the majority of the year. The highway I was driving on the night of the accident is supposed to be near the set. That's why I called you both by their names when I first came to. I thought I'd accidentally taken the wrong road."

"That still doesn't tell us why you called us by their names. Do we look alike or something?"

I laughed at Sam's comment. "Yeah, there's a bit of a resemblance."

Sam frowned.

"Look, Jared and Jensen star in this show called Supernatural. They play these two brothers named Sam and Dean Winchester. Their mother Mary died when Dean was four and Sam six months old. Their dad, John Winchester, pulled them from the house just as it went up in flames. Since then they've hunted the supernatural. John kept a journal on all he knew and gave it to his sons when he left them to go looking for the thing that killed Mary. His sons followed his footsteps and Sam, who was reluctant at first, became more hell bent on finding their mom's killer when it took the life of his girlfriend, Jesse."

Dean and Sam stared questioningly at me.

"I'm not a hunter and I've never met Jim Murphy. The reason why I know all this stuff is because I'm a fan of…"

"Of us?" Sam looked heatedly about the room. "A fan of us and our life? Is that supposed to be some kind of sick joke?"

"No, it's supposed to be the truth. How am I supposed to know that what I'm watching on the WB is real?"

"So, you just crash your car and bang, here you are, in a fan girls paradise. Tell me, was tonight at the cemetery as exciting as you thought a real hunt would be?"

Sam didn't wait for a reaction. Hastily he got to his feet and shuffled out of the room. I looked to my left and found Dean following his brother's lead.

"Dean?" my voice called out in desperation.

He glanced back over his shoulder and shook his head. "If you knew so much about us, then why didn't you know not to bring up Jesse?"

After another minute Dean was gone from the room too. Tears rising in my eyes, I found myself meeting another head on stare with Missouri. This time I didn't hold back the tears or anything I was thinking. It was clear that she already knew what I was feeling.

"Missouri…"

The older woman left the comfort of her chair and walked across the carpet in her pink slippers. She took hold of my arm. A chill ran through my body. She must have caught sight of it because a moment later I found the shawl being placed about my shoulders. Missouri gripped my arm loosely in her hand and without a word, led me out of the living room.

Neither me or the old psychic bothered to talk. She kept a hold on my arm and walked me down the hall in silence. I'd lowered my head the instant Dean had left me. I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting to come from all this. Maybe guilt-free conscious. It's not like I'd wanted to lie to the Winchesters, I just had to. Out of necessity. I hadn't meant to hurt Sam. God, if I could have, I'd have told them the truth from the very beginning. If I could have I'd never of left my apartment for that damn tub of ice cream.

"Leah, beating yourself up over what happened is not going to solve anything."

It was the sound of Missouri's warm voice that finally brought me back to the present. She was standing in the doorway of another room I hadn't been aware of until then. With a gesture of her hand she motioned for me to follow her. The lights were off and I stumbled my way in behind her. I wasn't even sure where the older woman had gone to because when I reached out to steady myself I found that I was alone.

"Missouri?"

A light flickered on from the far end of the room. Shelving units stacked with thick, leather bound books covered the walls from one end to the next. Missouri stood next to an oak desk, where a small green lamp illuminated the room. A few more books were opened and scattered across the wooden surface. Only a single chair in the entire room and it was pulled out from the desk. The older woman sat down with a heavy sigh.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded and smiled. "Don't worry about me. I'm just not used to being up at all hours. Come on now, close that door and come here, I have something you might be interested in."

I was a bit unsure if sealing myself in a room alone with the older woman was really the right decision but seeing as how she was the only one in Lawrence, Kansas who was still talking to me, I figured what the hell. Shutting the door quietly, I made my way to where Missouri was sitting. She didn't need to tell me what she wanted to say. Instead I let my eyes wander over the open books that had a few loose leaf papers sticking out of them. I looked to her hesitantly.

"Go on."

I picked up the first book. Turning the pages, I took in the information hurriedly as I skimmed each line. My heart was pounding in my chest. It wasn't until I nearly dropped the book that I realized my hands were shaking too. Quantum physics, alternate universe theories, space and time, it was all a blur to me. I placed the book back on the desk and grabbed the second one. It was a thick, plump colored thing without any title. I flipped towards the pages that Missouri had already marked. There were drawings, diagrams really, of chicken scratch that tried to explain the possibilities of the universe and the theory that there may be more than just one. It was all over my head, just like the first one. After struggling to wrap my head around it for another minute, I put it back and took the last one. It was older than the other two. The pages were wrinkled and had faded to a ripe beige color over the years. Stenciled gold symbols littered the front of the book but inside it was just English.

The first few pages were nothing big but as I went further into the novel, the more I felt like I was in a Sunday school than in Missouri's study. Some of the information talked of the human world others focused on the great evils. There were pictures of shadows, of daeva's and horn rimmed beasts. Sketched photos of writhing bodies and soaring flames. I wanted to look away but something kept me glued to the pages. The name Eleêth came up more than once and it was mentioned at times when there seemed to be no hope or when evil tired to rein.

I turned to Missouri.

"Eleêth is the Hebrew form of God."

I nodded and continued to flip through the pages. Stories, no predictions of the rise of the devils. Demons of fire and fate, of pain and greed that would rise up and reclaim the earth as their own. The book once again mentioned several names: Mammon, Asmodeus Beelzebub known as the princes of hell, who would do the bidding of Sammael. They were known as the keepers of the thrown and were given the duty of protecting it until the day when Sammael would slaughter the good from the earth and rule it as his own. Through the influence of these three, would the good of men crumble and evil prevail and all that Armageddon, our days are numbered stuff. I closed the book and dropped it with the rest.

"Missouri what does this all mean?"

"Leah, when you first told me of how you ended up here, it sounded a bit fishy. I've been looking through these old books, mind you, I don't understand half of that science mumbo jumbo, but I have friends who owe favors and had them explain it a bit better. Of course their all theories but it helps suggest what is going on."

"What is going on?"

"From what I understand there a several different types of realities apart from our own. Now normally we are too far to ever be able to visit these alternate worlds. It's nearly impossible. However, in each of these universes something different is offered. There's one idea that there other dimensions lie in these worlds and that in others things travel constantly at the speed of light. There are theories that a universe exists for every decision you've ever made."

"What?"

"Say you role a die and it lands on a six. In other existing universes you would have a two, a five, a three, a one and so on. If this is possible, than there could be another version of yourself scattered throughout these realities, just like there can be another version of myself. The man I talked to explained to me that we are all branched out from the same source, so that even if we never experience these other parallel universe it does not mean we are not affected by them. Somehow, we are all connected to them on an unconscious level. The perception of the alternate realities may only be by perception."

"So what your saying is…"

"What I am telling you Leah, is that I believe when you crashed your car in Vancouver and went unconscious, your connection between these alternate realities short circuited and routed your conscious form into another reality other than your own. This could account for why you keep seeing yourself in a coma in the hospital. It's the universe's way of setting things right again. It's as though it is trying to restart the connection between your unconscious form here and your physical body there. So, technically you're here but you're also there."

"Wait, if these realities are built on all possible outcomes, shouldn't there be another version of me walking around? And what about Sam and Dean, I mean, where are their counterparts in my world? And Jensen and Jared in this one?"

"Remember Leah, these are just theories. I believe when you stepped into this reality, you formed a new person with your old self in this universe and your self from the one before. While technically you are not completely here, because part of you remains in your original world and your unconscious self lies here, I think what happened was the connection broke and your unconscious clashed with this worlds conscious and created what is now, you in this world. Understand?"

"No, not really."

"Well, that's the best that I can do dear. As for Sam and Dean, I'm not sure what to tell you. Perhaps we don't exist as the people we are in this world but maybe as different people. You say we look the same, well maybe that truly is us. Perhaps Sam really is Jared but was born into a different family, without the burdens he carries now or the knowledge of the supernatural. Maybe the boys are different because their lives are altered that way. It could be just a big coincidence that they happen to meet together in life as actors and not brothers, but that they play brothers of their real life counter parts in another universe. It's hard to say really hon. I can only speculate."

"And that other book. The one with the demons and all that. What was that about?"

"It was just an idea. Nothing really."

I didn't bother to push the questions any further. I could see from the drooping of her eyelids that Missouri was growing tired and all this talking was probably zapping what remained of her strength. I told her I was heading to bed and said goodnight before thanking her for this new information. But as I padded down the hall and back into the living room for a few hours of shut eye, I couldn't wonder if that was the real explanation for how I'd ended up there. I mean it made sense, but all this business of alternate realities and every possible outcome seemed way too overwhelming and I couldn't even imagine that Missouri even understood half of what she was telling me. She tried though, that was all that mattered but now I felt even more at of a loss of how I'd come here. Had I really short circuited this connection between realities like quantum mechanics would lead me to believe? Or was it something else? I couldn't help wondering about that last book with the gold print that I'd flipped through. Or the shadowed figure that had been lurking over my body in the hospital. Was it something supernatural that had taken me here? Maybe that book did have something helpful. Come morning I'd get my hands on the leather bound book once again and question Missouri a bit more. Should I tell her what I saw? Should I tell Dean for that matter?

I climbed on the couch and wrapped myself in the warm blankets. Lying back in the warm cushions, I stared at the ceiling, thoughts racing through my head as I prayed for sleep to take me soon.


	12. Chapter 11

_**Author's Note: Okay, so here's the next chapter as promised. I'm writing up notes for the next one so I'll be more inclined to write it faster. Lol. I'm lazy. But busy. Lol . Anywho, the last chappie I found was a bit…mmm…boring. Had to written because it explains a lot but here's one I enjoyed writing. As always hope you guys like it and please review at the end. Next update hopefully will be up by Sunday.**_

**_Disclaimer: I don't own our boys or supernatural. Damn!_**

**Chapter 11:**

_She'll take a tumble on you  
Roll you like you were dice  
Until you come up blue  
She's got Bette Davis eyes_

_She'll expose you  
When she snows you  
Off your feet with the crumbs she throws you  
She's ferocious  
and she knows just what it takes  
to make a pro blush  
All the boys think she's a spy  
She's got Bette Davis eyes_

Bette Davis Eyes: Kim Carnes

A car drove quietly down the deserted suburban street. The headlights caught with the closed lilac colored blinds. Easing across the far wall of the living room and making its way onto the ceiling, I watched as the shadows and bits of pale yellow danced across the room. The heavy blanket and pile of sheets that had kept me warm forty minutes earlier now lay discarded on the carpet next to the old couch. I had one leg propped up on the very top back of the couch, while the other dangled off the side, inches above the floor next to my right arm. The cold had slowly faded away and was now replaced with an endless feeling of heat and discomfort. The air was thick and humid. The stale taste of sage, cinnamon and other such herbs and spices, lingered in the house, but not in that comforting Martha Stewart way.

With the little strength I had left, I raised my dangling arm and tossed it across my face, hoping the gesture would send me to sleep. After nearly drowning, being flung across all universes and telling the Winchester's who I really was, all I wanted was sleep. I just wanted to drop into unconsciousness and then stay there until all these problems had vanished. Yet there I was, lying awake, the witching hour long past and with no sign of falling asleep appearing in the near future.

The house lights were off. Missouri as I assumed had gone to bed after I'd left her alone in the study. Where Dean and Sam were I wasn't sure. After they'd walked out on me I hadn't bothered to look for them and they obviously hadn't bothered to come find me. Things were quiet, but an unsettling quiet. As I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to force away the rivulets of sweat inching their way down my cheeks, I wondered if things could go back to the way they were. Like hours ago, when Dean seemed to be finally warming up to me and the only problems we had to face were a spooky cemetery and figuring out who was the most formidable opponent when wit was involved.

After another minute of restless turning and endless grunts of discomfort I finally decided to raid the fridge. Normally if I were staying at someone's house I'd ask for everything. A glass of water, where the bathroom was, can I use your telephone kinda junk. I figured with all that was going on Missouri wouldn't mind if I had a quick snack. Besides, I had barely touched my supper at the restaurant and it wasn't normal for me to go without a meal and now my stomach was revolting.

Creeping through the living room, I tiptoed my way into the kitchen. A pool of ashen light flooded through the window above the sink. I eyed hidden corners and darkened spaces wearily but continued my quest towards the glowing ceramic box. It hummed with electricity and the prospect of what lay within thrilled me. I glanced towards the jar of homemade cookies but remembered the warning Missouri had given me and thought twice about reaching in and stealing some of the baked goods.

Tugging lightly on the handle, the fridge door eased open, casting my tense form in an explosion of sodium light. I peered into the cave of food and scanned the shelves. Microwaveable containers took up most of the space, filled to the rims with dark green vegetables I'd never seen and old meat. I picked up one and cracked the plastic lid. The smell made my stomach churn and I nearly dropped the putrid leftovers on the floor. Placing it back into its rightful place, I nearly reached for the half empty jar of pickles but then realized I didn't want the long lasting taste of dill in my mouth. The rest of the fridge had the usual, close to expired milk, butter, eggs, an array of condiments and a few other odds and ends, nothing that would satisfy the gaping pit in my stomach. With a sigh I closed the fridge and just for the heck of it opened the freezer. No light came out this time and I had to depend on the help of the midnight sun that cast its glow into the kitchen. Squinting through the dark, icy box, I let my hands roam around the freezer. I fingered a few TV dinners, a cold turkey, or maybe it was a chicken. I went deeper and felt a tray of ice cubes and even further came across two cylinder shaped objects. My heart skipped a beat. I grabbed the first one my fingers brushed against and tugged it out. I knew what it was before I even read the label.

Satisfied, I closed the freezer and made my way towards the sink where I could get a better look at what I held in my hands. Just as I suspected, I'd managed to find Missouri's hidden stash of ice cream. I knew that woman had a sweet tooth. It was mint chocolate chip, not really my all time favorite, but still up there with cookie dough and chunky monkey. Viciously I pulled off the lid, telling myself I wouldn't get carried away and eat her whole tub. I was going to forgo the bowl for the moment-something I did quite often at my apartment- and instead rummaged through the drawers until I came across a spoon and then just began digging in. Propped against the counter, I sighed with pleasure as the soft dessert melted on my tongue. For a few minutes I just ate away at the ice cream, listening to the euphoric sound of crickets and highway travelers. The peace was a good change of pace.

The stairs creaked. Of course something would have to ruin the moment. I halted my eating, the spoon dangling from my mouth, ice cream sitting thick on my tongue. I listened and waited until a lean shadow, hunched forward, feet dragging recklessly along the floor crossed the house and stepped out the front door. A moment later the sound of heavy metal riffs shattered my tranquility. I swallowed what was in my mouth and dropped the spoon into the sink.

"Damn him" I mumbled as I put the lid back on the ice cream and hid it back in the freezer. Moving through the kitchen in a rush, I forgot a sweater and could care less to put on any shoes. I stepped towards the living room window, took a quick glance at what waited outside and then headed towards the front door. "Why does he have to be such a hardass?"

The door closed behind me with a bang that I was sure would have woken up the rest of the people in the house but I didn't care anymore. Hands on my hips, I walked barefoot across the gravel drive towards the slick muscle car. A dark shadow, head titled backwards, was sitting somberly in the drivers seat. I would recognize that shadow anywhere. I walked up along the passenger side. Dean had yet to notice me. I knocked impatiently on the window and watched a bit amused as the trained hunter jolted forward in alarm. He turned towards the window, stared at me a moment before he stretched forward and rolled the window down. I rolled my eyes. Typical man.

I leaned in towards him, arms on the opened window. Metallica was screaming something about sleeping with one eye open and I cringed as their voices seemed to grow louder with each passing second.

"Mind turning that down?"

Dean cocked his head and smirked a not at all friendly smile that seemed to beg the question 'are you for real.' I did my best to shake off his attitude, trying desperately to convince myself that he was the one overreacting and I wasn't the one at fault.

"My car, my rules."

"God, you're such a child."

He shook his head. "Is that what you came out here to tell me? Because if that's all, then I'd like to get back to more important things."

He reached forwards to roll the window back up but I slapped his hand away and with brute force yanked the door open, climbing in next to him.

"No, I'm not done yet."

He groaned and sat back in his seat. I reached forward and turned the music down. Dean glared at my defiance and turned the volume back up. I went to lower it once again when his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist in a vice grip.

"Leave it" he grounded out.

"Take your hand off me Winchester."

We held each other in a deadly stare off. Neither one of us wanted to back down but eventually his fingers loosened and I eased away from the tape deck. I still glanced towards it, debating whether or not to just rip it right out of the car and toss it to the curb, but the look in Dean's eyes told me that the action wouldn't come without repercussions.

"Well, now that you've ruined my evening twice in one night I guess your job is done."

"Excuse me? I ruined your night how?"

Dean released a forced laugh. "Don't give me that. Don't you defend yourself and act all innocent. You know what you did."

He folded his arms across his chest and kicked at the floor. I had to hold myself back because if I didn't I would have beat him over the head with any nearby blunt objects. Maybe I would take out the tape deck, that had a few corners on it that I'm sure would hurt upon impact with his thick skull.

"You're unbelievable you know that? I didn't ask for any of this. You hassle me at the rest stop, demanding to know what's going on. Telling me you can't trust me. Thinking that I'm probably some sort of deranged demon like Meg and then…and then I tell you the truth and you freak out."

"You lied to us. We trusted you and you lied to us. I thought you were a hunter. You could have gotten yourself killed tonight. Hell, you could have gotten Sam or I killed."

"I lied because I had to. If I'd of told you from the start you would have thought I was some lunatic and left my ass at the state line. And what trust have you ever put into me? Sam was the only one who trusted me. You…you never liked me. Not from the very start and obviously not now. Not once did you try to befriend me."

"I trusted you. I was nice to you…"

"No you weren't."

"What about the bar. I took you out, had a good time.."

"You had a good time. I was just a single white female and you were a man on a mission. That's all you cared about and as soon as you realized that there was something better at that bar, you dropped me and went after it. Yeah, real sensitive, hunter man."

I tried my best to keep the hurt out of my voice, but the more I spilled about how I was truly feeling, the harder it became. Rage coursed through my veins and my hands shook with the steady flow of it. I held back the tears and looked at Dean.

"You and Sam, you act as though I hurt you guys in some way. I never meant to keep things from you, never. But what was I supposed to do? Say, hey, I kinda pulled a Dorothy moment and I need to get out of Oz? It doesn't work like that Dean. I did what needed to be done to help myself."

"We could have helped you."

"Dean, get real. You would have taken one look at the car crash victim, thought concussion and dropped me off at the nearest hospital." I took a deep breath and rubbed my trembling hands along one another. "I just…I'm sorry, okay? I didn't want this. I should be at home, worrying about bills, not here with the two of you, thinking about demons and alternate realities and…"

"Leah, clam down. Just take a deep breath."

"I'm sorry" it was barely even a whisper. He nodded.

"I know. It's over now. Look, we'll figure this out. We've got Sammy the genius in there and we can't forget about Missouri…"

"Missouri doesn't know what to do Dean."

Dean's eyes darkened. "So, we'll ask around. Find someone who does."

"Excuse me for not jumping up with optimism but I doubt you'll find anyone."

Dean shrugged and stared out into the street. "I'll find someone."

I smirked "You seem pretty certain of yourself."

"That's because I am."

The hunter's voice sent shivers down my back. I could feel his hazel eyes upon me, the gold flecks highlighted by the moon, sparkling with reckless endangerment, with that sarcastic wit, with all the hidden fears and emotions that came together to form Dean Winchester. For once I admired him openly. The freckles that ran along his nose, the moist lips that sat slightly parted at the moment. His hair was mussed and leaned towards the left but it only added to his charm. I imagined myself tracing the line of stubble along his face, pressing my own cheek against his and feeling the harsh warmth of his facial hair as it rubbed against my skin.

Unconsciously I ran my hands through my hair, brushing the still dampened locks behind my ears. I went to comb them through once more when Dean reached up and took hold of my arm. We locked eyes. He didn't say anything and neither did I. His eyes had softened and a light smile appeared on his tired face. Slowly, he brought my hand towards the back of his head, pulling the rest of my body towards his own. Easing forward, I followed his movements and shifted my other hand towards his cheek. I brushed the stubble and fingered his jaw line. There were scars hidden beneath the shadow but too small to be noticeable.

"Dean."

My voice was thick with anticipation but laced with uncertainty. Our faces were mere inches apart. I could smell the shampoo from his hair and found it only increased my passion for him. The hand that stayed behind his head wandered impatiently through his short hair. Dean smirked and shushed me, hot breath rolling across my lips. I could feel the tingle as it brushed against them. His hands crept along my body. The first found its way along my back, starting at the bottom and slowly inching its way upwards. The second came out of nowhere. I was immersed in the moment, the hot breath that sent shivers through my body, the playing of Metallic, the dark, empty suburban streets. It sure wasn't anything out of a Harlequin romance novel but damnit, if it wasn't better. He cupped his free hand around the back of my head. There was a quiet moment where we let our hands wander along one another, expressing words we didn't dare say out loud and then together we filled the inches of space between our lips.


	13. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** **_So, here is the next chapter, as promised. As I said before, sorry for the very long break I took. It was unacceptable, lol. Hope everyone is still interested in this. Things are slowly winding down or picking up. A few more chapters and we're all finished! Yay! I say yay, because I can't wait to start putting up the sequel. I already have a bit of the first chapter done. Anywho, hope you all enjoy this chapter. I'm just getting over my long hiatus and writers block so hopefully it's not as bad as I think it is. I threw in a lot of everything for you guys, angst, romance, conflicts, suspense, comedy, thrills, chills, lol just about anything and everything. Enjoy! And remember to review. You reviewers are the best and I love every single one of you._**

**_Free Jared and Jensen clones for all my reviewers!!!!!!_**

**Disclaimer:** **_Pfft, no I don't own supernatural._**

**Crash Course**

**By: Babyhilts**

**Chapter: 12**

I could feel the heat of the mid morning sun on my closed eyes. The warmth penetrating through the Impala windshield was what stirred me from what was otherwise a comfortable sleep. Once I noticed how humid it was inside the old Chevy I woke up completely.

Something solid yet remarkably comfortable lay trapped beneath my left cheek. It smelt of gunpowder and smoke. Squinting against the light of a new day, I peered out of the corner of my eye into a pair of faded jeans. It suddenly dawned on me where I was and what had happened. In a moment a flurry of butterflies erupted within the depths of my chest. My stomach twisted in on itself as I lay there, sprawled across the passenger seat and partially in the drivers. Head resting on Dean Winchester's lap, with his well worn leather jacket draped across my body. I lay there, listening to his smooth rhythmic breathing, almost allowing myself to fall back asleep but the position I was in wasn't as comfortable as it had been at one in the morning. It dawned on me that I couldn't even remember falling asleep. One moment we were fighting and the next he had me in his arms and we were going at like two teenagers after prom. Since I'm using high school references it should be noted that we didn't go 'all the way' nor did he give me his letterman's jacket or school ring. I snickered to myself picturing the lone hunter in a football uniform. He probably got all the perks a jock would have when it came to the opposite sex but as for school spirit and all that rah, rah, rah, junk, I highly doubted it.

I tongued dry lips and still the taste of a Winchester lingered on them, inside my mouth. It was a sweet, indescribable taste that I savored for a minute. Dean was still sleeping soundly but as I shifted myself out of his lap I felt him begin to stir. The heavy breathing relaxed. A low moan filled the silence in the Impala. I took my rightful spot in the passenger seat, snatching the jacket as I went.

"Sam…coffee…black…three crullers…Don't forget the napkins this time."

The curled form of the oldest Winchester tossed once again in the dark upholstery. His muffled breakfast order falling upon deaf ears at the moment.

"Are you usually paralyzed in the morning or do you always make your little brother pick up your stuff?"

Dean tensed. His back became rigid as he cautiously turned himself around to face me. There was a dangerous look in his eyes when I met them from the passenger seat but a moment later the look faded into fields of hazel and gold. A small smile drew his lips apart as he sat himself upright. Dark sunglasses that had been still moments earlier, now found themselves being picked up by the hunters strong, callused hands.

I watched as he went through the motions. Slipping the impenetrable shades over his eyes, my heart thumped much too fast. I sat there, waiting, wondering if he was hiding behind those sunglasses. He forced out another grin, that false, 'Everything is fine' grin and I wanted to get sick. The pleasure of waking up to the taste of him on my lips didn't thrill me anymore. The leather jacket, pickled with his sweat, that warmed me, was starting to feel cold.

"Mmmm. You know, since Sammy isn't around, you could always fill out that order"

The cocking of eyebrows followed. I squeezed out a laugh and swept my hair back into a bun.

"I could always do a lot of things and yet, here I am. Not doing any of them. What does that tell you?"

Oh, god, what were we doing?

"Maybe that you're waiting for a little incentive."

"I don't need any incentive."

Dean's smirk grew. I could feel my hands begin to tremble and my tongue grow thick as he leaned slightly towards my direction. He paused. Our faces were still far enough apart. I could still dodge it if I needed to. Did I really want to though?

"You sure you don't want a little more incentive?"

I glanced out the windshield. There was a paper boy dawdling in the street. A shrill horn sounded through the neighborhood as he did wheelies on his bike. A neighbor was watering her flowerbed. Magnolias, lilies, sunflowers…

Dean's hand found its way onto my left shoulder. My body tensed. I saw his other hand reach towards my face. His thumb grazed my bottom lip. I closed my eyes and felt the pleasure wash over me once more. He held my chin between his thumb and forefinger. Eyes open, I found myself lost in his.

"Tell me. Who was your favourite Winchester on the tv show?"

He was inching his way closer towards my side of the Impala. A jean clad knee dug into my thigh. The hand that had been quiet on my shoulder now crawled along the nape of my neck. Warm, callused fingers reached up to my tied hair. My breath hitched. He pulled the elastic out with one swift flick of his wrist and I felt waves of blonde pooling around my face again.

What's going on here? Part of me screamed that this wasn't right, that this would only lead me to more hurt but the rest of me cried; begged, to be kissed and taken in by the man sitting beside me. He was there, I was there. We were both willing.

I leaned in just as he had done. "Who ever said I had a favourite?"

Dean frowned and then without so much of a "Hello, how are you?" he forcefully pulled me into him. I gasped out loud. Our chests connected and before I could react his lips were on mine. The air left my lungs. His hand mussed through my hair wildly. I let mine do the same. We hung to one another as if there were no air left on earth and this was our only hope. Then, before I knew it, we had stopped and I was sitting, eyes half open, trying to catch my breath. When I looked up, I caught Dean doing the same. I smirked.

"Aren't you supposed to buy the girl dinner first?"

"That's only if you tell me I'm your favourite."

Dean watched anxiously. That flirtatious smirk and gleam in his eyes that seemed to make all the girls swoon over him. I was swooning alright but I wasn't falling.

"Well, I guess we're going to have to forgo the candles and wine then, huh?"

I didn't wait for a response from the skilled hunter. I slipped out of the Chevy, leather jacket still wrapped around me and closed the door behind myself. A minute later Dean did the same. We met halfway up the driveway. His hand closed in on the small of my back and spun me around to face him. I smiled devilishly.

"You're a tease, you know that?"

"I am not."

He laughed. "You most certainly are."

Dean had that waiting look in his eyes again. At that moment I felt my stomach drop. It churned dangerously and I looked back over my shoulder towards Missouri's house. When I looked back at Dean he was still waiting. The truth was he'd be waiting for a long time to come. I didn't have any more one liners left in me to give. I wasn't sure if this was serious or if this was just another quickie, impulsive thing for the eldest Winchester to add to the list. I had to get back to my own time and then where would Dean and I be if things went any further? We still had a job to finish in Stull. Sammy was still mad at me. I couldn't hurt him anymore by taking away Dean from him too. That was, if Dean wanted to be taken by me.

I searched his eyes. He waited. I dug further into the depths of hazel and green. I couldn't get through his barriers and I knew I never would. I sighed. I couldn't do this. It was too dangerous. He knew it. I knew it.

"Dean…this, what happened last night with us…what happened a few minutes ago…"

The excitement died out immediately. His posture became erect and serious.

"What about it?"

"I don't know. Look, we should be worrying about Stull right now. I mean, we still don't know what were up against and your brother is in there, still pissed as hell at me."

"Sammy will get over it. He's a big boy."

I groaned. "Dean, I have to talk to him about this. We have to talk."

"We talked about it last night."

"No we didn't! We made out like a bunch of highschool kids in your Chevy."

"I don't know any highschool kids who make out like that."

It took all I had at that moment not to slap away the cocky grin from his face.

"Dean, that's not talking. You may communicate like that but I can't. Missouri told me some things before I came out to see you last night. A whole mess of things that I don't quite understand but that could help me get home."

Dean's eyes darkened. I struggled to keep myself from falling for him again. Be strong Leah! Don't cave now. This could help them. It could help you.

"I think this may have something to do with what were looking for here. I'm not sure what it is but something's been going on with me. Something I didn't get to tell you and Sam about last night."

"What?"

"I've been getting these warnings. I can't explain them but their starting to get more serious. They're scaring me Dean."

"What kind of warnings are we talking about?"

"That night in the cemetery and when you found me unconscious in the spare room."

"Jesus, why didn't you tell us?"

"Because, I didn't know what they were. At first I was just seeing my sister. Then I started hearing these voices telling me to stay away from Stull. Telling me that you and Sam were going to die. I was scared! I didn't know what to do."

I could feel myself shaking. The rise of tears forced themselves against the backs of my eyes. I would hold them back though, for as long as I could.

"So, it's about us, not you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Leah, did you see anything?"

"Just a dark shadow. Dean, what are you thinking?"

"Maybe you crashing your car wasn't an accident. What if it's because of us that you're here? What if it's our fault that you might be in danger?"

"Dean, come on…"

He took hold of my wrist firmly in his hand and pulled me hurriedly towards the house. I struggled to keep up with him.

"Dean…"

"We've got to talk this over with Sam. He may know what to do."

"All we know is that this might revolve around Stull. I think we should just go back there. Maybe dig a bit deeper into the history, you know. Maybe we'll find something that wasn't there before…"

"You're not going back to Stull."

I paused. "What?"

"You heard me. It's too dangerous. You're getting these warnings telling you to mind your own business and that's exactly what you're going to do. You'll stay here where we can protect you."

That was it. I wrenched my hand from his grip and slapped his shoulder as hard as I could.

"I'm not some child Dean Winchester. I am twenty seven years old. I am not sitting around waiting for you to go off and save me from the big evil world."

"Leah, you can't go. You're not a hunter. You don't know the first thing about this shit except from what you've seen on TV. That's not going to help us…"

"Yeah, it'll get you or Sam killed. You told me last night."

"No, it could get you killed. Or hurt. The Winchesters don't need anymore deaths on their conscious."

"But its okay for you two to go out there and get killed, while I sit back, knowing I could have done something?"

"No, that's not okay but it's what's going to happen."

He took hold of my hand again. We locked eyes for just a moment and then he was leading me into the house. The moment we stepped past the threshold I knew something was wrong. Besides the comforting smell of freshly made coffee, there was the feeling of tension. I assumed it was from the fight we had the night before. It still hung in the air, just as palpable as it had hours earlier.

We turned the corner together. Sunlight cast its warm glow through the kitchen windows, sending a spotlight upon the hunched form of Sam Winchester. His hand clutched hungrily onto a piece of semi-burnt toast while the other encircled a white mug. From the far corners of the kitchen I could hear the rumbling of the coffee machine. I could still smell the baking of toast wafting from the unplugged toaster. Dean left my side the minute he spied the caffeinated liquid. I continued standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, dirty, unprotected feet on the linoleum tiles.

I watched as Dean went to work getting his drink ready. Sam looked up from the dinning room table and managed to grab my attention. It took what little strength I had not to start apologizing to him. To not beg for his forgiveness like the desperate woman I was. He stared at me a moment, a look of disappointment and hurt, written clearly across his face. Soon his eyes hardened and within another moment he turned away, disgusted. I took a step forward when I heard him speak, his voice laced with sleep.

"Have a good time last night."

He lifted the white mug to his lips and took a savoring drink. I went to answer when I felt Dean brush against my arm and then take a seat at the table across from his brother.

"What do you think?"

"Dean!" I rushed forward, not really sure what to do. What he was implying bothered me not because I was surprised he'd said it, but because of the situation between Sam and I at the moment. I stopped next to Dean, standing not too far from Sam either. Sam set the mug down on the table and forced out a bitter laugh that tore right through me.

"Well," we locked eyes. "I guess that's just another dream come true. Huh, Leah?"

"Hey!" Dean slammed his mug of coffee down. There was a dangerous edge to his voice. Sam stayed in his seat, waiting for his brother to say something else but Dean wasn't speaking.

I couldn't take them fighting over me this way. It wasn't helping any of us and it sure as hell wasn't getting us any closer to solving two major problems going on at the moment.

"Look…" I began to explain myself when Dean cut me off with a glare.

"Don't. Leah, go upstairs. I've got to talk to my brother. Alone."

"Dean, I think we should all just talk about this…

Dean's eyes hardened and I knew he was being serious. "Not. Now."

Sam shot me the same hardened look. I glanced from one brother to the next and hastily made my way out of the kitchen and out of the range of fire. I knew whatever was about to happen wouldn't be good. Yet, I still couldn't pull myself away completely. I was the queen of listening in. I left the kitchen and made it halfway up the stairs when I stopped and took a seat on one of the steps. The minute I'd left, Dean had started in on Sam.

"What's gotten into you, why are you being such an ass?"

"What's gotten into me?" Sam was yelling. "What's gotten into you? Since when do you care about Leah?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you didn't before Dean and now what, you're in love?"

"No! I don't know. Last night, shit just sorta happened, okay? Like a bunch of frisky teenagers, that's it. Nothing else."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, right."

I tugged at the leggings of my pants. Whatever Sam was telling Dean now I couldn't hear. He was either whispering or the pounding in my chest had somehow managed to override the yelling. The instant Dean had revealed what he thought happened in the Impala between us, was the instant my heart started to try and escape my chest cavity. Not that anything exciting had happened, I just assumed something more than 'a bunch of frisky teenagers' had been shared between us. After all the arguing, all the dirty looks and mixed signals, I had actually believed that maybe he'd warmed up to me. Now everything I'd built up in my mind about Dean and I was slowly being demolished.

The floors creaked noisily from the top of the stairs. I tensed. Looking over the safety of my shoulder I could make out the shadowed figure of a larger woman. Missouri. Without so much as thinking, I got to my feet and hurried up the rest of the stairs to the landing, tripping twice before finally reaching her. She shook her head, a disappointing look on her face. Walking ahead, she gestured for me to follow and after the slightest of hesitation I did so.

"What are we going to do about you and that eavesdropping?"

I chuckled. "Sorry, it's kinda becoming a habit I guess."

"So I've noticed."

Missouri stopped in front of the spare room. There was a draft coming from inside and the lights were on. I realized how badly I wanted to change out of my night clothes and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I felt grubby standing in front of the well dressed psychic. She smiled knowingly and took my hand in hers.

"How are you keeping up dear?"

I tried to advert my eyes and keep my mouth shut but even then she could just read my thoughts and understand what I was feeling. I was confused and so very lost. I couldn't pick a problem to worry about without another one getting in the way.

"I'm hanging in."

"You and the boys…"

"I talked to Dean. He seems to understand now" I shifted uneasily beneath her gaze. "I don't know about Sam though. Oh, jeez Missouri, I feel so horrible. You should have seen the look on his face."

Smooth fingers rubbed the tops of my hands. I embraced the gesture and tried to hold onto it for all I was worth. I didn't want to let go. It calmed me and that was something I greatly needed. She was the only one who seemed to be able to comfort my fears and anxieties when no one else could.

"I never meant to hurt him" I chocked out.

"I know baby and so does Sam. He's just a bit more sensitive when it comes to these types of things. Once him and his brother talk it over he should be fine."

"I don't think it will be that easy."

Missouri pulled our hands apart. I raised my head to meet her eyes head on.

"It may not but all you can ask for is time and hopefully slowly things will begin to mend themselves."

"Yeah."

"Don't worry yourself so much. Now, come on. Go get yourself dressed and I'll meet you downstairs. I've got another pot of coffee on as we speak."

I thanked Missouri and waited until she'd reached the end of the hall and had begun to descend the stairs before running into the spare room. The door closed, I stripped out of my sweatpants and dirty top. I piled my underwear and socks onto the heap of dirty close and ran naked across the room. I prayed no one walked in on me as I scrambled to locate my duffel bag. It was sitting in the far corner with a pair of jeans sticking out the top. I found some jeans and a red t-shirt, picked out some panties and a bra and got change. I decided it was too hot for socks and treaded barefoot out of the room.

I felt more refreshed now that I was dressed in clean clothes. I stopped by the bathroom before going back down to the kitchen. I brushed my hair out of my face and into a ponytail and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. There was a red tint to my cheeks this morning as if I'd been a running a marathon or something. My lips were chapped and sore and bags were starting to form beneath my eyes. I groaned. This was as good as it was going to get. I hiked up my jeans so that my slight bulge of tummy stayed hidden and exited the bathroom.

Dean was leaning against the kitchen counter when I came downstairs. Missouri was off to his left buttering some more toast. The room was quiet. The coffee machine had been turned off and aside from the low hum of the fridge there was nothing else. I looked towards the table both hoping and fearing that Sam would still be sitting there; ready to tear into me next. When I glanced towards the back of the room all I found were a bunch of empty seats. Not even his breakfast dishes littered the mahogany surface. It was almost as though he were never there.

"Where's Sam?"

I was trying for the casual, I don't really care where he is, voice but I knew I'd failed as soon as the words left my mouth. Dean sipped his coffee and glanced towards Missouri who was still staying quiet. It took that woman a hell of a long time to butter two pieces of toast.

"Sent him to blow off some steam and pick up a few things for Stull."

"You're going back?"

He nodded and took another drink. "Don't worry about it."

But I was worried. How could I not worry about the two of them? All I could think about was how they might get hurt if they went back to that cemetery. It would be my fault if something happened to them. Had I not gone back the other night than they wouldn't know that something supernatural was still going on there.

Without a word I backed out of the room. I reached the front door when I heard Dean ask where I was going. I didn't answer. Missouri hushed him and whispered something so that I couldn't hear, but I didn't care anymore.

I stepped out onto the porch and shut the door. I took a seat on the bottom step and stared out across the street. The sun was higher in the sky now. More people were roaming the streets. I leaned against the old wood of the steps and watched as a young couple holding hands cut across a neighbor's lawn and headed towards the opposite street. A group of kids ran with a soccer ball towards the park and an unleashed dog ran circles in another yard. It barked and snapped, trying unsuccessfully to catch its tail.

I smiled despite it all and wondered what was going on back home with my sister. Even when I wasn't in some parallel reality, I still worried about her. She was the baby. It was my job to protect her from the evils of the world. When we were teenagers I was responsible for keeping her safe from all the hormonally charged young men. Now that we were adults I still had a responsibility. To look out for her, to keep her safe and to protect her from anything that might disrupt the ideal life she'd created. I couldn't let her worry about me and yet here I was, gallivanting around with two supernatural hunters while she worried about whether or not I was alright. I felt I was failing her in a way. If I could I'd go back and hold her and tell her not to worry but I couldn't. I was responsible for all the long, sleepless nights I knew she was having. When she should be thinking about her little girl and her husband, she was worrying about her unresponsive sister, lying in a hospital bed.

Tears rose in my eyes. I brushed them away furiously. My chest tightened and I was barely getting in air for a minute. I tried to calm myself down but it wasn't working. I waited it out though and after a bit the tightening in my chest loosened but the tears never stopped falling.

I was worrying about Dean and Sam now too. I had to protect them. They didn't know what I'd seen or felt the fear that I'd felt. The voice still siphoned through my thoughts every now and then, reminding me in that same sadistic tone how they would die. I couldn't let anything happen to them. I knew that. They just didn't seem to think what I was telling them was that big of a deal though when in reality, it was a hell of a big deal.

The growl of a car engine floated across the warm summer air. I lifted my head and sat patiently while the black Chevy pulled into the driveway. The Sam had taken a sharp turn and gravel sprayed recklessly onto the lawn.

I sighed. This was it. We were going to have it out.

Sam got out of the drivers side, a plastic bag in his hand. He stood in front of the door, looking around, almost as if he were taking in the situation. Hesitantly he walked towards me. The cold look in his eyes had softened since earlier that day. I relaxed.

"So, did you pick up what you needed for Stull?"

Sam paused midstep. He smiled and with a quiet nod pulled out a bag of peanut M&M's. No one said anything for a minute and then slowly we both let out a low chuckle. Sam dropped the chocolate back into the sack. He came and took a seat next to me on the porch, letting the supplies fall to the ground.

An awkward silence fell upon us. Sam was staring across the street, the toe of his shoe rustling the plastic bag. I folded my hands nervously into one another, wiping the sweat from one palm onto the other before I finally got up enough courage to clear my throat. The younger man turned at the sound, his eyes quickly adverting from my own the moment they met.

"Sam, look." God this was so hard. "About what I said last night…"

"No, it's okay Leah."

"No, it's not okay. I shouldn't have lied to you guys. I broke your trust…."

"Leah, we understand" he paused. "I understand. Dean and I, we talked it over a bit more after you left. He told me some things that I guess we didn't wait around to listen to. I'm sorry."

"Sam, I'm the one who should be sorry. I kept some big secrets from you. I could have gotten you both hurt last night."

"How about we agree that we were both sorry and leave it at that?"

I smirked. Sam did the same and I found myself being pulled into a warm embrace. Long, muscular arms wound themselves around my back and I wanted nothing more than to get lost in them. Sam was warm and comforting, just as Missouri was. I trusted him that things would now be alright between us.

Our arms relaxed but I continued to stay curled against his chest, while one of his arms draped lifelessly over my shoulder.

"You're pretty strong, you know that?"

I laughed and brought up one of my arms. I flexed what little muscle I had and said "Yeah, check out these guns."

Sam let out his own laugh. It was nice for a while and then just as quickly as it had begun, it ended with a single thought. Stull. I shifted myself off of Sam's chest so fast that he pulled back in surprised.

"What is it?"

"You and Dean can't go to Stull."

"Okay, that was out of the blue."

"Sam, I'm serious. You two should just drop this case. It's too dangerous."

Sam sighed and tried to take my hands in his. I held them out of reach before his fingers had a chance to brush against my skin. He seemed shocked but kept an even voice as he spoke.

"Nothing is going to happen."

"Not if you go. I'm scare for you two Sam. If you go to that cemetery I know something bad will happen. It's not worth it."

"Don't worry, everything will be fine…"

"That's not enough! You have to promise you won't go. Sam promise me."

Sam looked away. "Leah, if there's something in that cemetery that could hurt people then Dean and I have to go."

As Sam's words reached my ears I felt a sudden feeling of lightheadedness overtake me. I braced my hands against the sturdy wood beneath me. The sky was melting into the earth. Clouds shifted around before my eyes. The sun felt much brighter than it had moments earlier. The light nearly burned and I had to close my eyes to keep out the sting of it. Tears of pain escaped and ran wild down my cheeks. A nauseous feeling was beginning to form inside my stomach. All sounds disappeared and were replaced by this loud humming sound, like the sound of running electricity.

Sam's hand pulled on my shoulder. Slowly the hum began to lower but I didn't dare open my eyes just yet.

"Sam, I've been having these warnings."

"Dean was saying something about that."

"Well, they mean something. If you go you're putting yourself in danger. I don't want the two of you to get hurt or …" I couldn't bring myself to say it.

"Hey, nothing like that is going to happen."

The sickness in my stomach was escalating. I opened my eyes for just a second and found myself moaning in spite of the new found pain. Sam must have noticed my discomfort because the next thing I knew he was kneeling in front of me, his hands on my face and talking to me in a low, comforting voice. The loud humming sound was back and I couldn't chase it away anymore. I could barely hear what Sam was saying and it hurt too much to open my eyes again to try to read his lips.

"Don't go, don't go."

I repeated those two words over and over. I couldn't hear myself saying them but I knew that at least Sam could. One of his hands ran down the length of my arm, rubbing it soothingly before he helped drag me to my feet. My knees buckled and I felt as though I were about to face plant with the asphalt. He kept me upright.

"Come on Leah, that's it. Just a bit more."

I gripped Sam's arm as hard as I could and despite the pain, stumbled up the stairs and into the house. His voice was beginning to push out the dull hum in my head. The sickness and everything else had yet to fade and just when I thought it might be starting to, an explosion of white light commenced behind closed eyes.

It tripped and Sam's hand slipped from its hold on my arm.

"Leah!"

My knees hit the carpet. Sam's hands grabbed my arms protectively. I could feel myself shaking in his hold and the sickness was getting worse.

"Sam?"

"Dean!"

Sam sounded almost panicky which got me to panicking. If a trained hunter of the supernatural was getting nervous than I should be pissing my pants with worry.

More voices were adding to the mix. I could hear the approach of feet and knew that Dean and Missouri were close by. Cautiously I tried to open my eyes and was immediately rewarded with another slap of pain. The light hit again and I cried out, unable to hold back. In just one shot I felt my strength deplete and I sunk forward in Sam's hold, unable to stay upright any longer.

I was barely conscious as I felt myself being lowered to the ground. The voices around me were beginning to fade completely. I struggled to open my eyes one last time and found the blurred image of Dean Winchester hovering over me.

"Leah?"

I groaned and without warning was plunged into darkness. Their voices gone and the pain slowly subsiding, I found myself completely alone and then I was unconscious.


	14. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** _Hey everyone, I'm back. Lol Sorry for these long breaks I've been taking. I've been busy with school and the drama that is my life lol. Anywho, first semester is nearly finished two exams left and so, I decided to take time out to update. The story is almost complete. Aren't you excited? I am. Then I can start the sequel! Anywho, hope you enjoy. And please continue to review, hopefully that will get my butt into gear to write faster ;) wink wink. Also, excuse any typos, I wrote this very fast without reading over first because I'm tired and just wanted to put this up. There, you guys know my secret. I'm lazy. Anywho. Enjoy!!! Thank you for the continued support and for all the reiews, please keep it up! I love it! _

_Note: The POV's change in this chapter and are seperated so you'll know. I did it for a reason, so I hope it doesn't bother anyone too much and that it's not too confusing. If it is just let me know. I know sometimes it can be annoying. Hopefully this is not the case._

**Disclaimer:** _Don't own Supernatural as always darn but, I do own this brand new laptop that I'm typing my stories on! Thank you Santa. But not thanks to Kripke who did not leave a freshly wrapped Dean under my tree. waves fist One day Kripke, one day!_

**Crash Course**

**By: Babyhilts**

Chapter 13:

The room went quiet. Missouri hovered somewhere in the backdrop. Dean watched while the blonde woman closed her eyes one final time. He'd have rushed forward had his younger brother not done so first. Sammy did his whole Dr. Quinn medicine woman thing. She seemed fine. Her chest rose and fell with each life giving breath but something wasn't right. There was something going on inside that head of hers. The rapid shifting behind closed eyes and the beaded sweat that began to build along her chest and face was clear proof of that.

The eldest Winchester dragged a tired hand through his hair. Sam lifted Leah's head into his lap and pushed the girl's dampened bangs out of the way. Missouri mentioned something about getting some blankets and making up a spot for her on the couch. A minute later she was gone from the room and the sound of footsteps on stairs filled the room.

Dean watched and waited as everyone else around him seemed to know what to do. Leah was unconscious and he knew deep down it was their fault. She shouldn't even be there with them. They'd brought her into this shit and no one else. Now she was paying for it. The worse part of it all was she had tried to warn him earlier that day. She was trying to be the hero and yet she was the one who needed the saving now.

A low, pain filled moan formed under Sam's lanky body. The two Winchester's turned concern eyes towards Leah, assuming she was about wake but nothing else happened except for a minor twitch of her arm. Dean gave out a frustrated growl from the depths of his throat.

"Dean, you need to calm down."

Although Sam had been focusing his attention for the most part on their newly acquired friend, he'd been sensing the rising anger in his brother ever since the woman had fallen unconscious. Dean was pacing, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and chewing at the skin on the tip of his right thumb. He was ready to pounce; Sam could feel it.

"I am calm."

"Dean…"

"Where is Missouri with those blankets?"

Sam kept silent. He knew the older man wasn't expecting a real answer anyway. It wasn't too long until the aging psychic had returned with a quilt and two sheets piled high in her outstretched arms. The weight was throwing Missouri off balance. She'd struggled with each step, doing her best not to trip over herself. Thankfully for the older woman, chivalry wasn't completely dead. During his seething and over-the-top dramatics, Dean had managed to steal a glance in Missouri's direction. Within a minute he was at her side, taking the blankets from her tired arms. His own balance was thrown and he found himself stumbling backwards until he fell roughly onto the couch.

Without complaint, the trained hunter went through the motions and quickly made up a bed. Sheets tucked carefully beneath the cushions and the quilt drawn back just enough to slide Leah beneath it's warmth and protection, it was a throw back to the Winchester's childhood when John would demand they make their bed everyday, even in the skuzziest hotels of rural America.

The last of the two pillows were already downstairs; fluffed and seated at one end of the couch. It was then that Dean once again found himself growing anxious. Arms dangling like dead weights next to his hips, his hands folded in and out of fists with the need to be more useful..

Why couldn't she wake up, he wondered. What was so interesting about her subconscious that kept her away from him? Was this some type of woman thing? A way of pushing the boundaries of their sarcastic quips? If it was then she had won hands down. He couldn't beat this. Well, perhaps he could, but it would take something bigger than this and at the moment his mind couldn't come up with squat.

"Dean, you mind pulling the mother hen act somewhere else?"

Sam was a mere foot and a half distance away with Leah held limply in his arms. Dean didn't answer. In fact he wasn't sure he had heard his brother at all. Maybe he had heard something but it was muffled by every single thought racing through his head. For those first few moments where he tried to decipher whether or not Sam had in fact said something, he was staring, watching longingly at the pale figure that seemed about ready to slip out of his younger brother's arms. Her slightly muscular arms hung in mid air pale and freckled in the light and even more so in sunlight Dean remembered. She wore a scrunched, childlike expression across her face. Lips parted slightly, eyes creased in discomfort, while her chubby nose ran rampant with snot. Were it anyone else in Sam's arms he probably wouldn't have given them a second glance. The reality was though, that it wasn't someone else. It was Leah and whether he liked her or not, he wasn't sure. All Dean understood was that there was something about this older woman and he'd be damned if he let anything happen to her before he found out what that something was.

"Dean, she's no light weight man. Come on."

The incessant whine from the youngest of the Winchester's was finally enough to break through. Without a word or even the slightest of acknowledgments, he silently took a step back and away from the couch.

"Missouri, what is this? What's going on?"

Sam drew the warm quilt to just beneath Leah's chin. Missouri, being the wise woman she was, had run off during the time that Dean had allowed himself to space out and had returned with a cool wash cloth. Sam held it in one hand, wiping carefully at her forehead, while the other he used to comb back her ruthless blonde bangs.

"I'm not exactly sure hun, but if one was to ask, I'd take a wild guess and assume it has to do with that thing you boys are after in Stull."

Sam caught the thoughtful look in Dean's eyes and knew without question his older brother was thinking the same thing he was.

"So, then whatever we're dealing with, it isn't just confined to the cemetery. I mean, if what you're saying is true then it managed to pull its little bipatty bopaty boop thing all the way here in Lawrence."

Sam nodded "I think we'd better start opening our minds and start looking at this thing on a wider scale. I mean maybe this has some kind of connection to The Demon."

"Yeah, but why though? I mean why get Leah involved? Why bring us all the way out here to Stull? He waits a few months for us to recover from the accident with the semi just so we can all face off again?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe Leah's supposed to be collateral for the demon."

"Sam, we didn't even know Leah until a few weeks ago. Why would the demon bring someone we'd never met before into this? Why not someone else like Missouri or Bobby. Someone we actually have connections to?"

"I'm not sure just yet. But I'd bet you any money a lot of the answers lie in Stull."

Dean nodded. In his heart he knew that Sam was right. Whatever was going on, they'd find the solution in Stull cemetery. The reason behind Leah's random shift in time; everything. Still, he couldn't help shake the feeling that maybe they should stay. Leah's warning earlier that morning was starting to worry him a bit. She'd seemed so fearful, both for herself and him and his brother. Though at the same time, the longer they waited around twiddling their thumbs and talking about it, the longer Leah would be in danger. Whether she was in danger at the moment or not, it was clear that Stull and Leah were connected somehow and since Stull had been their job from the start then it was their job to help her. He knew she wouldn't like it. Hell, Dean didn't care for the idea much himself but it had to be done. It was their life, their poor career choice that had been handed to them by their father.

"Dean?"

Dean tore his eyes away from Leah one last time. With a quick gesture of his hand, he motioned for Sam to follow him.

"We've got work to do."

* * *

Pain. Discomfort. Stiff, throbbing muscles. As consciousness slowly returned all I could really think was 'Wow, my life sucks'. Not in the "I'm sixteen and my boyfriend broke my heart and mom and dad didn't get me a red corvette for my birthday" sense. I felt that my statement clearly rang true. I mean, any third party outsider who took a quick glance into the past few days would realize that my life did in deed _suck._

Eyes still closed, I brought a heavy hand up to my head in hopes of soothing away the dull ache that had so rudely taken up occupancy. It wasn't so bad but it just added to the agony that engulfed the rest of me.

Although the pain had disappeared from my stomach and the insistent humming sound had faded away, my body still maintained a weighed down feeling. I felt exhausted. Had I ever run a marathon –which I certainly never did- I'm sure the feeling would have resembled something along the lines as to what I was feeling at the moment.

Sprawled across a cool, linoleum like floor, I shivered in my light t-shirt. My hair was a mess and fell across my chest and face in ragged lumps of blonde knots. I knew immediately, maybe even before I was fully awake, that I was not back in Lawrence with the boys and Missouri. Nor was I at the hospital in Vancouver. I wasn't sure where I was but I just knew it didn't feel familiar. In fact, the moment my mind began to process this new information, an unsettling feeling began to set in.

With a bit of a struggle, I managed to prop myself into an upright position. The room spun for a few seconds before it began shifting in and out of focus like a bad television reception. I dug my nails against the cold floor, clawing at the cracks in the tiles as if to somehow keep out the dizziness. The room soon steadied itself once more. I let out a shaky breath I hadn't know I'd been holding in and wiped at the sweat that had gathered above my upper lip. A layer of the clear liquid found itself buried minutes later into the leg of my jeans.

"Well, that's attractive."

Unsteady as I was, I began to prep myself to stand up. I started with one leg and then the next as I would any other time and used the floor to push off of. The moment I took a semi straight stance I felt the airy feeling in my head return but I didn't loose my footing as I thought I would.

"Hmm, baby steps" I mused.

I hadn't even taken a step yet and at the rate I was going I'd make it back to Kansas by the time the boys were in full swing of the third season. Speaking of the boys, where were they? Or for that matter, where was I? It wasn't as though I was surprised to find myself somewhere foreign. I mean, the past week I'd been a regular Alice in Wonderland, stepping through the looking glass every time I closed my eyes. However, it didn't matter how many times I had tea with the Mad Hatter or the March Hair, I still wasn't getting used to this any time soon.

A warm rush of air blew across my uncovered arm. A series of light shivers crawled beneath my skin, slithering slowly up into my chest and winding around into my upper back. Hesitantly, I stepped forward. A shaky breath escaped my narrowly parted lips.

From where I stood it seemed as though the hall stretched on forever. There seemed to be no end. No doors or windows, only cold linoleum beneath my feet and the constant flickering of long, sodium bulbs above my head. They buzzed and the glass shook dangerously from the fast traveling yellow light of electricity. I glanced up at them while I wandered down the hall. Would the yellow light escape from its glass case and fall on me if I waited long enough, I wondered.

* * *

Dean threw the green duffel bag across his left shoulder. He looked over the bed in Missouri's spare room. It was still made. Now standing over the bed he recalled he hadn't bothered to use it the night before. In fact, he'd been more comfortable curled against the cold glass pane of his Impala with half of a strange girl cured in his lap. She'd fallen asleep first. He remembered because he had fallen asleep shortly after, listening to the light sounds of her breathing, watching the slow movement behind her closed eyes. She had been dreaming. 

Dean sucked in a tired breath. He looked down at the made bed and the wrinkled clothes that had been carelessly tossed on top of it. Leah's bargain priced clothes. The ones his hustling money had paid for.

"Dean?"

Shaken from his thoughts, the sturdy hunter suddenly appeared taller, more confident. He rubbed a callused hand across his forehead, wiping away the buildup of sweat. A minute later the strong façade was once again in place. Dean snatched his leather jacket violently from off the bed and turned out of the room.

Sam was standing patiently at the bottom of the stairs. He had a small handgun filled with silver bullets tucked against the small of his back, hidden by his plaid shirt. Dean was carrying the rest of their supplies. The journal, the rocksalt, holy water, rosaries, anything and everything to kill whatever evil son of a bitch wanted them dead.

Dean handed the duffel bag to Sam as he passed him on his way down the stairs.

"Take it out to the car? I'll be there in a minute."

Sam took the bag without question and stepped outside. Dean watched his younger half disappear out the front door. Missouri was still in the livingroom, keeping a silent vigil next to the still unconscious Leah.

Dean stepped cautiously around the corner and stopped next to Missouri. Leah was quiet for the moment. He wished she'd say something, anything at all. He smirked, remembering when all he wanted was her to shut up. The girl couldn't keep herself quiet for more than thirty seconds.

Missouri reached out and touched Dean's hand gently with her own. She smiled. Dean mirrored the older woman's look but he was finding it hard to smile.

"She'll be fine."

Dean shook his head and slipped his hand out of Missouri's. "No. She wont be fine until we kill whatever is haunting Stull cemetery. Leah will be stuck here forever if we don't find out what's going on."

"Dean Winchester, I commend your heroism but did you not stop to think that maybe running blindly into battle like this could do more bad than good. Leah told you of the warnings."

"Missouri, you and I both know how evil works. It manipulates people to get what it wants. And if it wants a Winchester than its going to get a Winchester."

"Dean, honey…."

Dean combed back a stray piece of Leah's hair. "Just look out for her. Make sure she doesn't leave the house."

"Dean…"

"We'll be back in a few hours."

Dean turned and left. Missouri frowned as the front door slammed and the gravel was stirred in her driveway. The engine of the old Chevy revved and the tires burned rubber as the Impala was hear tearing down the quiet suburban street.

* * *

The further I walked the thicker the air came. There was a musty smell that curled the hairs in my nose and it hovered just above my head. I tried to push forward, but the closer I seemed to come, the further the hall seemed to grow. I'd sweated buckets by then and I was certain I wouldn't be able to keep going for much longer. I was just about to fall in a heap and cry when my legs just gave out. A loud thudding sound shattered the silence and echoed off the walls as my knees made contact with the tiles. I gave out a frustrated yell, but no one was around to hear me. 

"Great, all I need now is that depressing R.E.M. song playing in the background and I'll be completely pathetic."

The words had barely left my mouth when the sound of glass shattering erupted from ahead of me and one of the lights blew out. My back tensed and I clenched my hands into tight, sweaty fists. Glass shattered once more, this time from somewhere behind me. I snapped my head around to try and catch the source of the breaking lights but there was nothing but the empty hall. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat. Another bulb broke. Then another. Three more. The hall was slowly filling up with the eerie black. The apprehension was killing me as I waited for another bulb to break. I felt I was suffocating. Each shatter, more glass littered the floor. I was trapped. I had no shoes on and I wouldn't be able to move in either direction over broken glass. Another light spewed out translucent shards. My heart was racing. One more light broke.

I must be in some B-rated horror flick because this is just too cliché. I smirked at my mental quips but in all honesty it didn't matter how cliché this seemed, I was panicking. I mean, it was always the dumb blonde girl who stayed put when things got scary that was brutally killed with hedge clippers.

I stared ahead, squinting my eyes at what little light that remained and started to make out a shadowed figure, slowly advancing through the darkness towards me. There were no distinguishing features that I could make out from where I sat, just shadow. The smell of sulfur overpowered the earlier smell that I had then found so rancid. As the shadow stepped towards the next light it blew out and in the same instant one behind me did the same thing. Pieces of the broken bulb hit the back of my open neck. I cringed and bent forward out of reflex. When I knew I was fine, I lifted my head to discover that I was now sitting under the only remaining light in the hall. Everywhere I looked there was darkness. I wanted to reach out but fear of loosing an appendage scared me, so I kept my arms and legs drawn protectively into myself, under the safety of the light. Somewhere in that darkness was that dangerous shadow.

"Leah…"

I froze. My mouth went dry as it seemed my tongue had suddenly grown thick like a sponge from the excess saliva. I recognized this voice. I may not have recognized my surroundings but the evil that drifted across the air I'd remember anywhere. It was the thing from the hospital. The whispering winds from Stull cemetery. The voices in my head.

"What's going on! Why am I here?"

I struggled to keep my voice from shaking as I tried to confront the evil that lurked somewhere in the darkness around me. I was sick of being pushed around by this thing. I was through playing games.

"Loose lips sink ships, m'dear."

"Excuse me? Mind not speaking in proverbs?"

"Funny. Too bad your clever wit won't save you or the Winchesters."

"Look asshole, you don't scare me…"

"Don't I?"

The thick ebony laughed mockingly at me.

"I've separated you from your world. From the only people in this world you know. Your alone Leah. You're confused and are loosing your battle to stay calm. I can smell your fear from here dear girl."

"Awe, and I wore deodorant and everything. Hmm, 'Secret, strong enough for a woman, but not for a demon' how does that sound?"

There was a moment of silence before I felt myself thrown backwards a few feed. I hit the floor with a painful thud. The moment I was able to regain my composure I darted for the circle of light. I'd barely stepped beneath the sodium glow when I heard a loud popping sound and felt glass raining down on me.

"Stupid girl, the light cannot protect you."

I spun around nervously trying to pinpoint the voice that had spoken through the thick surrounding black.

"Still think you're not scared? I warned you more than once to stay out of this. The Winchester's will die in Stull and you will die here."

"What…"

"I warned you girl…"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why bother bringing me here? How did you?"

"What are you going on about?"

A frustrated sigh escaped from somewhere in the darkness.

"Why bother taking me from one reality into another if you were just going to kill me now?"

"That was a mistake on my part. One that wont be repeated for quite some time. You were to be what helped bring the Winchesters down. I watched you in your world. Pathetic, overweight, single. You were the perfect candidate, not to mention your knowledge of what lurks in the dark. I knew the Winchesters would take you with them and I knew you would stay with them. I hoped that you would try to take on all the big bads like most girls in your position, put the boys at risk. However, that didn't work. I hoped you would have heeded my warning. That didn't work…"

"How come I keep going back to my own world You're not the cause of that."

"No, I am not. It has something to do with your physical body in the alternate universe. The connection between your form here and what remains of you there is strong. Your physical body is recovering and your consciousness is returning therefore the connection is growing stronger, pulling you further back into your world."

"So, why not let it take me? Why keep screwing around with me if you already realized your plan wasn't working?"

"Because, you young lady have walked over my grave. I don't too kindly to people who just pass me off. I am something your worst nightmares could not conjure up."

"Well, nice dramatics. Did you learn that at community college?"

A sharp pain suddenly commence in my chest. I gasped in spite of it and bent forward in hopes of releasing some of the discomfort.

"Your time is up Leah Carlson. You'll die here and the connection to your physical body will be forever cut and you will never see the light again."

The pain increased ten fold until I ended up face first on the hard linoleum. A minute later there was light again, but the pain had yet to stop. The light grew brighter and hotter. Things were heating up. Literally. Through the torture that continued beneath my chest, I opened my eyes and noticed the advancing of flames. They were moving fast. Sweat rolled down the sides of my face. The fire snap, crackled, and popped like a breakfast cereal. A stray flame licked my foot. I cried out in pain, gasping in air, desperately trying to find oxygen.

Through the settling haze I heard the echoed name 'Winchester' and cringed, knowing what would happen.

The fire was melting the ends of my pants. The material heated and liquefied within seconds and stuck painfully against my leg. I screamed and the scream was echoed back from the shadows. Something began to pull on me from the right. Like a light tug on my arm. I moaned. The scream sounded once more, this time frustration and anger clearly evident. Once more I felt the tug and everything went black.

* * *

Someone was shaking me. I could feel the pressing light of mid afternoon on my closed eyes. Tiredly I opened them and found myself staring into the worried face of Missouri Mosley. She smiled relieved and lowered her hand from my right arm. I followed the movement with my eyes, watching her pick up a cold washcloth from the table and wiped the sweat off my forehead. 

"You…" I croaked, my voice sounding dry and weak to my ears. I struggled to sit up but Missouri hurriedly pushed me back down, shaking her head.

"Yes, I brought you back dear. Now rest, you must be exhausted."

"What happened?" I asked, ignoring her orders. She sighed.

"I almost lost you, that's what. This demon you've gotten yourself involved in is a nasty one. Nearly took you with it this time."

So I had almost died. It was just a dream. This was real. Missouri must have sense the panic in my eyes because she immediately placed her hand upon my arm once again.

"It's alright dear. I still know a thing or two about warding off demons."

She flashed me a wide, toothy grin. I nodded as a response because I didn't much care for the cheering up anymore. Yeah, I was glad I was alive. I mean, who wanted to be burned to death? I don't think anyone would but that wasn't the point. Now that I was fine and in Lawrence with Missouri, I had other things to worry about. These things being Sam and Dean Winchester, who were now in serious trouble.

"Missouri…"

"They left hon. Some time about."

"What! Not to Stull, right? They just stepped out for some M & M's and a cold compress right?"

"Fraid not. Look, everything will be fine."

I wasn't hearing this. They just left! While I was knock unconscious, fighting off some demon who got his kicks taking single girls and throwing them into alternate realities they were off gallivanting around a cemetery. Hell no.

I swung my leg hurriedly over the side of the couch. A little too fast I might add, as the room spun for a moment. When things began to settle once again, I got to my feet and rushed around the living room like an addict looking for her fix.

"Leah, girl sit your butt back down. You should not be running around like this."

"Missouri how could you let them leave?"

I ran into the kitchen and searched through the drawers hoping to find anything besides a butter knife and rolling pin that may come in handy.

"Excuse me?"

"I didn't mean it like that…I just… their idiots. Their both, stubborn, idiots!"

I ran up the stairs, two at a time and found myself in the spare room. It smelt of leather. It smelt like Dean. I quickly changed into a pair of fresh clothes and had almost left the room when something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. A brown piece of Swede was sitting on the nightstand. When I went to pick it up and turned it over in my hands I realized that this was the sheath that contained the same knife Dean had leant me a few days earlier in Stull. I grabbed it gleefully in my hands and dashed out of the room and down the stairs. Missouri was already waiting for me, a frown spread across her face.

"Please Missouri, don't look at me that way. You know this has to be done. If I don't go…"

Without a word the older woman pushed a leather bound book into my hands. It was in rough shape, with loose pages sticking out here and there. I took the book, making sure to handle it gently.

"It may be of some use to you if things get rough out there. I don't know if there's anything in there that will get rid of that demon but it's worth a shot."

I smiled. "Thanks Missouri."

She nodded and ushered me towards the door. I stepped hesitantly onto the porch and looked back at the older psychic. "Go kick some ass." A set of car keys found their way into my open palm and I was off, opening the door to the old station wagon that sat collecting dust in the driveway. I turned the engine a few times before it would start and tore out of the gravel drive.

I was heading for Stull cemetery. I was scared shitless. I had only a knife to protect me and all I could think about was Dean Winchester. I cursed under my breath and muttered,

"Who the hell does he think he is, Rambo?"

Minutes later I increased the pressure on the gas pedal. I couldn't wait to get to Stull and knock some sense into him.


	15. Chapter 14

**Author's Note:** _Once again, another chapter by moi. I've been in the writing mood all week but this stupid flu and finishing exams and work has been keeping me away from my computer. But, now I'm here and with a whole new chapter of excitement. Just to keep you guys updated I'm starting a new semester this week and it has two different English classes one just English and the other mostly writing so it may be hard to find time to update but I'll try to find it. Oh, and this story is almost done you guys. We're wrapping up soon, and that can only mean ….SEQUEL! Which I am totally excited for! I don't wanna give anything away except it is going to have a lot of little plots and whole lot of action and excitement. I honestly can't wait. So, drabble done. Lol. Enjoy this chappy and as always please leave a wonderful review at the end. Thank you guys for the continuous support for this story. I appreciate it._

_Story Note: Just incase anyone has forgotten, this story takes place after season 1 and so season 2 does not exist at all. And we're just going to pretend that at the end of season 1 in the accident they all got banged up but made some miraculous recovery and John just decided he had to go his seperate way from the boys for a while . So, just so everyone is still with me there, that's how its going down._

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**_Crash Course_**

**By: Babyhilts**

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**Chapter 14:**

_I've been drivin' all night, my hand's wet on the wheel  
There's a voice in my head that drives my heel  
It's my baby callin', says I need you here  
And it's a half past four and I'm shiftin' gear_ --Radar Love by: Golden Earring

I called it multitasking. Although, I don't think I'd quite managed to conquer this new art form just yet. One hand on the steering wheel, the other twisting the well used knob of the car radio, while still managing to find time to flip through the ratty old book Missouri had given to me on my way out. It's shredded leather bound body sat open in my lap, the air seeping in through the partially open window making me lose the page I was glancing at. I tried to roll the window up but after veering into the next lane I realized it would take a bit more of my attention than I was willing to give up at the moment.

The station wagon raced down the open highway. I saw the 'Now Entering Stull' sign and felt a new rush of adrenaline course through my veins. Unconsciously the pressure from my foot on the gas peddle increased. The needle on the speedometer twitched and then began to crawl. Slowly pass the eighty mile mark and still not stopping when it inched its way past ninety.

I grinned openly. The power beneath my foot was incredible. Sure I was behind the wheel of a beat up station wagon and yeah, I felt more like Driving Miss Daisy than I did Tom Cruise in Top Gun. But man, did I feel alive at the moment.

My fists tightened on the wheel. The speedometer continued to climb. It reached a hundred and I laughed. I took a hand off the wheel again and began to search through the radio stations, bypassing anything involving sports, classical and plain old white noise.

Glancing up for a moment, I made sure to check my surroundings. The trees were whipping by at lightning speed and I realized why Dean always drove. If I could get this much excitement from a pathetic little station wagon, imagine the rush behind that old Chevy? I made the turn off onto the back road leading to the cemetery. A cold sweat broke on my back. I turned my attention to the sky and cringed when I noticed the pale blue had faded into a collage of deep purples, warm pinks and vast stretches of tangerine oranges.

I ignored the fear that had suddenly taken up residence inside my head and slowly pushed it out with the cocky, careless Leah Carlson who was currently high on an adrenaline rush. I flipped through the stations like a maniac. I passed Phil Collins and Cat Power. Both of whom would not settle this power rush feeding my soul.

"This a Radar Love moment" I told myself as I searched the stations, but the chances of me coming across that song were slim.

A bit more static and suddenly my fingers stopped. The banging of the drums, the guitar riffs. I knew this song. I cranked the volume and steadied the wheel before I swerved into a cow patty.

"Oh dont lean on me man. Cause you aint got time to check it. You know my suffragette city. Is outta sight...shes all right."

I took the next little bit to do my own embarrassing version of a drum solo against the steering wheel, belting out a few words here and there. It had been a long time since I'd listen to any David Bowie and Suffragette City was enough to chase away pre-hunt jitters and to get the endorphins pumping once again.

Looking out through the windshield, I checked my surroundings once more and calculated a few more empty fields and endless hills and I'd be at the cemetery. The sheathed knife sat ready in the seat next to me. I smirked and tried to numb out the creeping in fear. Bowie was still screaming and I wanted the bass to be loud enough to drown out the doubts in my mind.

"Your almost there, Leah" I soothed. "Just a few more minutes and you'll see Dean and Sam and everything will be…tabarnak!"

The station wagon took a jolt forward. My already bruised torso took a sharp and painful toss into the steering wheel. I groaned, cursing under my breath as I eased back into the seat while bringing shaky hands to the wheel in time to pull the vehicle into the right lane. There were no cars, but I'd nearly managed a repeat of the accident back in Vancouver. When the car finally crawled to a stop I relaxed my grip on the wheel. That's when I realized I hadn't stopped the car myself. Throwing the station wagon into park, I looked up over the steering wheel to see smoke rising out from under the hood.

"Oh, hell no. No. No. No."

I unbuckled myself from the seat, tore open the door and ran around to the front of the car, standing just in front of the thick smoke emanating from Missouri's handicapped car.

"This can't be happening" I whined before tentatively reaching out to lift the top of the hood. The moment I got my fingers underneath the top and raised it up, more smoke poured out and the heat made my eyes water, rendering me incapable of seeing anything. I held the top up a bit longer in hopes of chasing away the pain in my eyes in a few more seconds but the metal top was hot in my hands and was heating up with every second. Suddenly, the metal lid slipped from my fingers, falling down with a whoosh sound that tossed a heap of grey smoke into my face.

Stumbling backwards on the highway, coughing and cursing so many Quebec swears that it would have made my dear mother proud. When I'd done enough coughing and crying to clear away the smoke, I looked up and stared in awe at the dark grey cloud that had consumed the station wagon. I turned next to the vast expanse of road that lay before me and the quickly diminishing light. I let out a frustrated howl of anger and gave the front left hubcab a piece of my mind. Half a second after my foot made contact with the tire, the hubcab went flying, banging against the asphalt before rolling away into the tall grass of the ditch.

"I guess I have a bit of walking ahead of me."

With the sun quickly setting in front of me, I ran back to the car and picked up the book, keeping it safe in the crook of my arm and slipping the knife into my boot just as I'd done on my first trip to Stull.

"I bet the bat mobile never broke down in the middle of downtown Gothem." I whined on last time before starting my walk towards the cemetery.

* * *

I'd been running/ jogging for close to ten minutes. Sweat trickled down the sides of my face. I smelt like a mix between gym shoes and wet dog and I could barely get any air into my lungs. I hated to run, and running was exactly what I'd been doing for the most part. Now as the cemetery came into view, I slowed my pace to a tired walk. I didn't see the impala parked anywhere nearby and I hadn't past it on the way in, but I knew the boys were somewhere in that cemetery, they'd just done a good job of hiding the Chevy. In a place like Stull that thing would have stuck out like a sore thumb and they knew they couldn't be caught now, not when it was coming down to the wire like this.

I pushed my way through the cemetery gates and made the climb up the small embankment of grass and headstones. The cemetery was filled with this eerie blue lighting now that the sun had disappeared. It wasn't dark out, really, but it was getting close. Each step I took was carefully placed as I didn't want to end up tripping over any fallen headstones or end up drowning in any mysterious puddles. I still hadn't run into the Winchesters which unnerved me a bit. I mean the last time I'd come to Stull alone I'd nearly died but that did seem to be the theme of the week. How many times can we kill Leah Carlson? Catchy, I thought.

Just when I was beginning to have my doubts about the boys still being in Stull, I caught sight of a tall, lanky figure on the top of the hill, near the pile of cement rubble that used to be the old church. Relief immediately filled me and then, something else. Anger. Frustration. The adrenaline was back, pumping double the dose into my system. I picked up the walk until I was running up that hill like Kate Bush.

"Sam Winchester" I growled when I was nearly at the top.

The shaggy head of brown hair shifted and I could make out two confused brown eyes from underneath the thick quaff. He had a set of papers in his hands and a bag at his feet but now all the attention was on me.

"Leah?"

I smirked, happy to hear his voice but at the same time the anger had yet to leave. How could they come here? I told them it was dangerous. I warned them that their lives were at stake and here they were.

I stopped mid stride and scooped up a handful of rocks. These would do. I rolled them over in my hands, picking up the pace again and before I'd gotten too close I launched one of them in Sam's direction. He reacted fast, clutching the papers to his chest and swerving to the left in time to miss the flying rock. When he turned to catch my attention with those puppy dog eyes again, I was already throwing another. Then another.

" Leah calm down. Leah!" He ducked. Another miss. I was out of rocks. Growling, I fisted a few more out of the gravel road beside my feet and hurriedly tossed a few more in his direction. Two at a time now. He missed them both. But as the handful went soaring, a rogue rock nipped him in the shoulder. He yelped in surprise and stumble backwards from my advancing form. "Leah, come on. Are you possessed?"

I stooped down to grab one more when I heard the shuffling of feet somewhere nearby. Immediately I dropped the stones back onto the ground and scanned the cemetery until I spotted Dean racing up the hill, a duffel bag slung across his neck and shoulder. I could hear the rattle of knives and guns from where I was standing, each one hitting his back with a clank clank sound as he made his way towards us.

"Sammy!"

I moved towards him and when he made it to the top that's when our eyes met. He was breathing heavily and smelt like lighter fluid and smoke. God, he smelt good in anything, I mused but then the worry and hate was back.

"Leah?"

Gritting my teeth, I tossed the book Missouri had given me to the ground.

"What the hell are you doing here? Your supposed to be back in Lawrence!"

Dean placed his hands on his hips and did his impression of a scolding father. I formed two sweaty fists and bit my tongue to keep the anger from being verbalized. Instead all that came out was this animalistic sound from deep within my throat.

"Son of a…are you possessed?"

Without thinking I launched myself at Dean, taking him off guard and pulling him to the ground with my added weight. We fell over backwards, losing our place at the top of the hill and slowly began to roll backwards, slipping and sliding along the wet grass. Sam was yelling at us from the top but that was all I could make out. Yelling. Nothing specific either.

I fisted my hand in Dean's hair tugging at it and his stupid leather coat that looked so good on him. We rolled over some more. I felt him pulling on my shirt and pushing painfully on my bruised abdomen. We rolled again. He cursed and I did the same. The duffel bag on his back thumped against the grass close to our heads. My leg scratched against something pointy and I cursed and pulled harder on his hair. The duffel thumped once more, bouncing off the grass it rose into the air and hit me against the back of the head just hard enough for me to let go off Dean's hair and fall into his chest. Dean released his hold on me as well and we rolled to a stop at the bottom of the hill.

I removed myself from off Dean's chest the moment we came to a stop and lied with my back pressed against the cool, refreshing grass, panting like mad in hopes of being able to breathe again some time soon. When I was able to get enough air into my lungs and was able to control the pounding in my head, I turned to Dean and found him doing the same.

"Leah, what the hell?"

I groaned as I sat up and looked at Dean, fire in my eyes.

"Tell me it's a disorder. Tell me a doctor diagnosed you with some kind of mental retardation as a child because I swear to God Dean Winchester if you tell me that your always so pigheaded and stupid I will pull us down another hill."

He flashed me that cocky grin of his. I could feel my heart racing.

"Jackass" I cried and punched him in the shoulder. His body jerked back slightly from the force but that was it and when he'd recovered he was still smiling. "I can't believe you."

"Me? How about you? Who in their right mind comes to a haunted cemetery?"

"Besides two Ghostbusters and a Canuck?"

"You're supposed to be in Lawrence."

"So are you."

"Are you guys okay?" Sam called out to us from the top of the hill. He was slowly making his way down towards us. Neither Dean nor I acknowledged his comment.

"Leah, this thing. It's not going to stop until one of us is dead. You know you're putting yourself in danger just by coming here."

"And what about you and Sam. Huh? I told you guys not to come here. I begged you Dean Winchester. I said it was dangerous and you ignored me and now look where we are. At the bottom of a damn hill, right where were not supposed to be. Way to take instructions."

"What can I say…."

"How about I'm an idiot."

"Leah…"

"Dean…"

"Jeez, you both love to hear yourselves talk, don't you?" Sam was now hovering above, a hand stretched out to both of us. I took it but when I looked to my left I noticed Dean swatting Sam's hand away and struggling to his feet on his own. I groaned and turned on him again.

"What's your problem? Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

"That's who I am" Dean snapped. "I don't need you to tell me how to do a job. If this place is haunted then I gonna kill what ever it is and call it a job well done, just like I've always done. I told you Leah. This gig is dangerous but it's what Sammy and I do."

"So, what? You couldn't listen to me when I asked you stay put? Dean, I passed out a few hours ago from the same thing that brought me here in the first place. The same thing that I think is tied to Stull and you just up and leave me there with Missouri?"

Dean shifted his weight and took a moment before replying. "I had to."

"That's a lie. You didn't have to. You could have waited. At least until I woke up. You just don't like following anyone's orders. That's your problem."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic."

"It's true. You don't listen to me when I tell you it's dangerous. You don't listen to Missouri or Sam. Shoot, the only person you do listen to is your damn dad and he isn't even around half the time anyway."

"Leah…" Sam whispered.

In that moment I realized what I'd said. Sam's quiet voice calling my name stirred me from my anger and I looked at Dean to see the hurt evident in his eyes. What had I done?

"Leave it Sammy."

My stomach did a somersault and a half axel at the sound of Dean's voice. He was holding in his pain. Masking what he felt. I remembered what the demon had said to him when it had possessed John and cringed. What was Dean feeling now? What was he thinking?

"Dean, look I didn't mean that. I shouldn't of…"

"Yeah, you shouldn't of." He turned on his heel and stared at me, eyes ablaze. "You don't know anything about what I've been through. Only what you've seen on TV. You don't know my father or my brother, or even me. You may think you do, but you don't."

"Dean!" Sam yelled but his voiced was silenced by Dean lifting a warning hand in Sam's direction.

"Now I don't care if me being here gets your panties in a twist, but I'm staying. I suggest you find a way back to Lawrence princess and just tight for a few hours until we get back."

With that he moved past me, brushing his shoulder against my chest so that I stumbled back a few steps before he began moving back up the hill.

"I'm staying." I called out to him.

I watched Dean stop in his climb up the hill, as if thinking over what I'd just said, but it was a brief pause and he was climbing again.

Sam rushed to my side once his brother had left and grabbed my arm gently in his. I pulled back out of surprise, tearing out of his light grip and staring wide eyed at him. I felt edgy and nervous all of a sudden. I wanted to cry because I hadn't meant for things to get so screwed up and now they were and all because of me. How were we supposed to do a hunt with Dean and I in a fight? The shadow from my dream was right. I would bring down the Winchesters.

I looked to the gate of the cemetery, thinking maybe it would be best if I did leave. I wouldn't be a distraction for Dean and maybe they'd get the hunt done safely but my gut told me I had to help. My feet stayed planted in the cemetery grass. I looked to Sam and begged with eyes for his help.

"I didn't mean to say those things…"

"I know" Sam calmed and pulled me into his chest. I gave him a quick hug, so that I didn't let myself get too caught up in the moment and so that the tears didn't get a chance to fall.

"I was just so worried. Sam this thing, it nearly killed me in Lawrence. It's after you and Dean and I just…I don't want anything to happen to guys."

Sam smirked. "You some kind of superhero all of a sudden?"

I laughed. "Well, the guys do refer to me as Wonder Woman."

Sam raised his eyebrows and I shook my head. "Sam, I'm going to help. Whether he" I gestured to Dean's shadowed form at the top of the hill "likes it or not."

Sam nodded in understanding. "We still have a few hours before midnight and we still don't know what this thing is or how to kill it."

"Well, then we have our work cutout for us."

I brushed the grass off my pants and followed quickly behind Sam who was already making his way towards Dean. I could already tell this was going to be a long night.

* * *

Side Note: So, another chappie finished, hope you enjoyed. The next one hopefully will be up within the week. We'll see. But I just wanted to let you guys know one thing

**Tabarnak:** lol for anyone who was like wut is going on here, is a French swear word used by a lot of French Canadians. I wanted to include it in here because it sounds a bit classier to me than spitting out the F word and Leah is Canadian and so, there's some French Canadian heritage for her. Hope that clears it up for anyone.


	16. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:** _So here is the chapter I promised. Were coming to the big showdown folks so strap yourselves in and get ready for the ride. Hopefully I don't end up making this seem rushed, you guys tell me if it comes across that way. This is the set up to the big battle in the next chappie. I tried to keep it light, a little Dean/Leah banter. I also stole a line from Four Brothers so…uh, ya. Next chappie a lot of action, rocksalt, Latin, a lot of what the Fk's and perhaps tears and hugs? Lol maybe._

_Anywho, enjoy! And more to come soon. Also keep reviewing cause I'm lovin the feedback and thank you as always for giving me the feedback._

**Disclaimer:** Of course I don't own Supernatural. If I did there wouldn't be a one month hiatus. Lol. I'd make those guys work work work, nonstop. :D

**Crash Course**

**_By: Babyhilts_**

Chapter 15:

_It's astounding, time is fleeting  
Madness takes its toll  
But listen closely, not for very much longer  
I've got to keep control_

_I remember doing the Time Warp  
Drinking those moments when  
The blackness would hit me and the void would be calling  
Let's do the time warp again...  
Let's do the time warp again!—_Time Warp From **the Rocky Horror Picture Show**

To say there wasn't any tension once Sam and I reached the hill would have been a lie. To say that it was so thick you could cut it with a knife would be an understatement. To get a word in you needed to hack away at it for at least fifteen minutes with a chainsaw. I hadn't thought to bring my trusty chainsaw with me; I mean it wouldn't fit in my back pocket, so I was left to deal with the tension.

Sam went to work on Missouri's book the instant we touched leveled ground. He pushed the heavy duffel bag Dean had been carrying earlier aside and flipped the book open to the first page. He took John's journal and laid it out on the grass next, making sure to take his time flipping through each one, back and fourth, back and fourth. This little feat went on for a short twenty minutes.

I knew Dean wasn't going to take my apology anytime soon and after the first fifteen minutes I couldn't care less. Every word I tried to get in he silenced with a glare. Every step I took towards giving him an apologetic hug or an 'I'm really sorry' was answered with the popping of his gum. God, the gum popping. Now there isn't much in the world that could have unnerved me so much and I was guilty of smacking my gum from time to time too but his gum popping was LOUD. It made an annoying click, click sound off the roof of his mouth before he set up to blow a bubble, which of course he'd make with such ferocity that it would burst with the same sound that only a firecracker was able to produce. I'd seated myself on the grass across from Sam, making it appear like I understood what he was doing but of course I didn't. He mumbled Latin and flipped a page and did this over and over while I sat, listening to Dean. He was pacing back and fourth, twirling a switchblade in his hand, popping his gum. His feet made squish, squish sounds through the damp cemetery grass. His gum went pop. Squish, squish, POP. Squish, squish, POP. Squish, squish, POP! The humming of metallic then…squish, squish, POP!

"Holy hell" I muttered. I fisted my hands into the ground, wrapping my fingers through thick green blades in hopes of releasing the anger bubbling just under the surface. I thought I'd caught Sam smirking at me from his book, but I couldn't be sure. All my attention was on Dean. I could hear him pacing behind me.

Smack, smack, squish, squish, POP!

"Somethin' botherin' you?" he said around a mouthful of gum. I released my hold on the grass and whipped my head around to me him. He had a satisfied grin on his face as he did his impression of a cow.

"Oh, so you acknowledge that I'm here. And all this time I thought you were playing hard to get."

The grin faltered, but he came back with a double POP, POP.

"You sonofa…"

His grin widened.

"Dean, quit it. Leah settle. I think I found something that might be useful."

"Thank god."

I scooted over next to Sam while Dean stepped forward slightly and hovered above us. Sam spotlighted the page with his flashlight for the rest of us to see. Some of it, or well most of it was in Latin. I sighed and tried to keep up with what he was saying but it went in one ear and out the next. Now if it was French or English maybe but this was Supernatural Land where everything was upside down and inside out.

"So, what I'm thinking is we can use this to contain the thing. It will prevent it from getting out of control; we'll be able to subdue it in order to use the exorcism from dad's journal. Those together should send it back to hell."

"Sammy, please tell there aren't any catches to your plan."

Sam smiled. "A few. There's a lot to read in here." He said lifting up Missouri's book. "It'll take a bit of time to read it all and I doubt this thing is going to give us a chance to even open the book before it starts tossing us around like hacky sacks. Once we get it done though it should be easy enough to exorcise it."

"Well, it sounds like a piece of cake. So, rock, paper, scissors for the lucky guy who has to read Latin tonight?"

Sam raised his fist and readied himself for battle against his brother. They had one do over and Sam lost when Dean chose rock and crushed Sammy's scissors. I glared at them both. Didn't they understand how dangerous all this still was?

"So, that's it? Read some Latin, sing a few songs, do a little dance and were done?"

"No one said anything about singing or dancing but if you care to share…"

"Screw you Winchester! Sam, are you sure about all this?"

"Pretty sure. It's all we've got though; that and an arsenal of guns and rock salt. Don't worry Leah, nothing bad is going to happen to you as long as were around. I promise. Besides, we still have about three hours until anything will happen."

"How's that?"

"We figured with all the urban legends there's got to be a bit of truth. They say this thing doesn't come out until midnight, so we've got a bit of waiting before then."

I sighed dramatically. "So, what do we do until then?"

"Practice your thumb twiddling."

Dean smirked, turned on his heel and drifted towards the duffel bag. A moment later all I heard was the humming again followed by the POP! POP! of gum.

* * *

A few hours later Sam and I were sitting across from each other, our heads thrown back, our mouths open wide, while we let out heaping laughs that made our stomachs hurt and our shoulders shake. Sam wiped at a stray tear that had escaped his closed eyes. I smiled. Desperately trying to catch my breath, I continued with the story.

"And…oh jeez, the look on his face when he tried to take the bottle from his hand…" I gasped, barely getting any air into my lungs, chocking on the laughter.

Sam nodded his head excitedly. "I know, I know. When we pulled into the diner I went to the hardware store and saw it just sitting there, like it was calling out to me. It was meant for Dean's hands."

We both laughed. "Oh and when you pulled the cord at the end, just to make him more mad…ha! Genius."

"Well, of course."

Dean was hunched over the duffel bag, pulling out odds and ends, looking over his shoulder with that same hateful glare. I smirked when I caught him looking our way. It had been almost three hours that we had been going at it, Sam and me, each of us recounting funny stories that included Dean as the main star. Of course, Sam had more than me, but I was able to bring up a few key moments from the show to add to the conversation.

"Honestly Leah, you should have seen when we were kids. That itching powder prank he pulled on me was nothing compared to what I did to him when he was seventeen. I mean, that's probably where he got the idea. I took out all his underwear, poured into every one, on the same day we were heading out on the road. Man, he suffered." Sam let out a laugh. "Remember that Dean? You're butt was so red and sore you couldn't sit down for weeks."

At this point Sam and I broke out in hysterics. I barely heard Dean shifting through the grass towards us. When I looked out from tear filled eyes sure enough, there he was, glaring at us. I looked him up and down, ignoring the glare and trying to picture him biting back the pain every time he sat down. I couldn't help it, it was too funny.

"I don't mean to spoil your roasting over here, but if you haven't noticed were hunting a demon."

"You think?" I snapped back. Sam lowered his head as he knew what was coming next.

"What?"

"Well, we never did figure out if it was a demon or not. Were just going on the assumption that that's what it is."

"Look, how about you leave the thinking to me from this point on."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"Uh, guys?"

"What!" we shouted in unison.

In the next instant a gust of wind tore through the surrounding trees. The grass shifted on its own accord, tickling my pant legs. The sky suddenly seemed much darker than it had a moment earlier and the moon had disappeared behind a wall of bruised clouds and thickening fog. A chill filled the air. Off in the distance the creaking of metal could be heard. I turned in response to the sound and watched as the cemetery gate swung back and fourth in the wind.

"I think it's starting."

From the darkest depths of the cemetery came an agonizing moan. I must have jumped closed to ten feet. When I touched ground, I could barely stand upright and unfortunately stumbled into Dean's chest, using his muscular frame for support. My legs were shaking and my knees were buckling and I was starting to regret ever coming here.

"It's just the wind."

I pushed myself off Dean's chest and nodded my thanks. At least he was being a little more kind to me.

"It's twelve" Sam stated as he scooped up both books from the cemetery floor and placed them into the inside pockets of his coat.

"Time to rock and roll."

Dean wandered over to the duffel bag, pulling out a shotgun which I assumed was filled with rocksalt. Sam followed suit and started digging through the bag himself. While Dean pulled out a bottle of holy water and extra rocksalt, Sam pulled out a large hunting knife and a silver handgun. The handgun he tucked into the back of his jeans, the knife he kept in his hand. I remembered my own knife that still remained protectively against my leg. It wasn't much but it would do. Hopefully this thing didn't like metal blades.

I heard a clinking sound and Dean stepped forward, fondling a strangely shaped symbol made out of metal that fit into the palm of my hand. He handed one to me and then to Sam and pocketed one for himself.

"What is this?"

"A charm."

"What like a "They're after me lucky charms" charm?"

"No," he began through gritted teeth "a charm that will protect you from possession or doing the time warp again with this demon."

I nodded, barely listening while I put the charm into my jeans pocket. "So what, no gun?"

Dean cursed, making it just loud enough for me to hear. I couldn't help but grin. Every little thing seemed to get him riled up. He moved away from me for a moment and started looking through the duffel bag. Seconds later he came back wielding a crowbar.

My face fell.

"Here," he said his arm outstretched. "hit em with this sweetheart."

I stared at him in disbelief. I looked to the crowbar, to the shotgun he had tucked under his arm, to the smug look on his face and to the crowbar again. My mind was screaming at me, telling me to do something, telling me to curse him out. To lay into him. To verbally beat him down. Kick him where it hurts.

A low growl from deep inside my throat floated across the air. I stepped forward hurriedly, taking advantage of my quick reflexes and snatched the crowbar from his hand and raised it in the air. Dean took a step back out of fear or sheer surprise, I'm not sure.

The wind picked up. The trees bent every which way. I could hear the branches snapping under the pressure but no leafy limbs hit the ground. Another howl sounded as a chill wound its way up my back.

"How about I hit you instead" I growled once more. I advanced towards him and Dean stepped back. I raised the crowbar higher into the air and could feel it cutting downwards towards him. I didn't even hear Sam moving behind me.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me."

The metal bar was so close to Dean and then it was gone. Stolen from my hands. I cried out in anger and spun around to find myself trapped inside a tall, looming shadow. I looked up and caught Sam shaking his head and smiling at me. Dean let out a sigh of relief.

"No more hitting, Leah."

"Yeah," came Dean's voice.

Sam turned on Dean next. "What are you seven?"

"What?"

"Just give her a gun Dean."

I grinned back at Sam. I folded my arms across my chest and nodded at Dean. "You are definitely my favourite Sammy."

Fire seemed to set behind Dean's eyes. He pushed roughly past me, stalking forward and picking up the duffel bag, he tossed it at Sam.

"Fine, give her one of your girly, guns then."

The younger Winchester seemed to ignore the comment. Dean was busy doing his own thing once again. The weather was worsening and the clouds had yet to release the moon. Sam pulled out a hand gun identical to the one he'd placed into his jeans for himself. He handed it to me carefully. I caressed the metal weapon, running loving hands over the trigger and handle.

"It's loaded with silver."

"What, no shot gun too?" I said playfully.

"Be lucky you even have that!" Dean called out over the increasing winds. Sam handed me extra ammo, "just in case" and closed the duffel bag. Once he was done I finally noticed Dean. He stood some feet away, staring out into the increasing black. The wind had yet to die down and it only got colder the longer we stayed still.

"So, any ideas boys?"

"Yeah," Dean turned around to face us. "We split up."

My heart stopped. "What?"

"Dean's right, we'll cover more ground that way."

"Do you guys not watch slasher flicks? That's how the crazy hockey mask wearing freak with the axe feddish always gets his victims. When they're alone!"

Sam smiled at me reassuringly. "It'll be fine. Besides you'll be with Dean."

"What?" we cried.

"I'm going to take a look around the cemetery. Check out what's left of that old tree, the one where the "witch hanging" was. You guys check out the remains of the church."

"Dude…"

It was too late. Dean's plea fell on deaf ears as the winds picked up once again and Sam had already turned to leave, walking off to his part of the cemetery. I watched teary eyed as he left, knowing I'd have to deal with Mr. Testosterone and his shotgun full of rocksalt. Yippee.

"Well, lets get this over with as quickly and as painlessly as possible."

I snorted. "Sounds good to me."

Dean took the lead, as usual, his shotgun hanging limply under his arm. He was humming metallica again but at least he'd had enough sense to throw out his gum before we started out.

Unlike the trained hunter, I felt safer with my handgun at the ready. I kept my finger on the trigger, imagining I was some cop in a big Hollywood flick, ready to bust down a well known crack house. I stepped cautiously through the grass, sweeping from left to right with the gun. I'd press my back against an invisible wall, gun in front of me and then tear around the corner, gun at the ready. Sweep the room, it would be empty. I'd move forward. I'd turn around long enough to signal to the men behind me to check out the rooms down the hall, and then I'd keep going; into the next room. I'd come to a stop at a door that was locked and closed. I'd have my gun out and then with a strong kick I'd have that door falling off its hinges. The wood would splinter out in every which way. My hair would fall into my face and I'd be trying to catch my breath when I'd notice two guys just waiting on the other side for me. I'd yell "Freeze!" and they'd stumble back in surprise. They'd make a move to stop me and I'd let out a warning shot into the bigger man's kneecap.

I looked at the back of Dean's head and turned to the surrounding area. I swept right and then left, and then left again, playing this scenario out in my head. I was starting to wish I had a flashlight too, that way I could use both my hands and I'd be able to sweep better. I swept right. I swept left.

"Could you not follow so close to me?"

The thick voice startled me from my daydream. In hindsight, I guess I should have been paying more attention to the real mission, instead of the fake one in my head. But hindsight is 20/20 and well… I'd just finished sweeping left when the voice cut through my thoughts. Instincts told me I was still keeping a look out for drug addicts in an abandoned house. Gun still held tightly in my hands, I hurriedly swept right. It all happened in seconds. Sweep left, the voice, the sweep right, the sound of metal hitting flesh and the cry. When I started to come out of my dream I saw Dean cradling his chin where a bruise was starting to form.

"Dean?"

"What the hell was that?"

I could feel my palms becoming moist and my cheeks reddening. Still, I kept my head high.

"I was sweeping the perimeter," I said, so sure of myself.

"Sweeping the perimeter…Leah this isn't NYPD Blue here."

"Well, sorry for watching your back smartass."

"You really wanna watch my back? How about lowering your gun out of my face for starters and second, how about turning off the safety."

He took the gun from my hands, flicking the safety off before handing it back, the weapon pointed purposefully at the ground. I was never going to live this down. I mean, I wasn't really a cop, or a supernatural hunter, how was I supposed to know how to shoot a handgun?

"Now relax a bit and be ready for anything. Oh and Leah?"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to shoot me okay?"


	17. Chapter 16

**Author's Note:** _Bonjour, kiddies. Here's the next update. One of the last for this story. The end is coming soon. So get ready and enjoy what's left of the ride. Thanks for the constant feedback as always. Now, lets get down to business. This is the_ _first part of the big showdown. Hope it some of the stuff isn't too weird and whatnot but uh, tell me what you think. I'm still putting together this whole supernatural stuff._

**Disclaimer: I'm afraid Kripke still hasn't sent me the papers that state that he's agreed to sign over Supernatural to me. Dang!**

**Crash Course**

**By: Babyhilts**

**Chapter 16:**

The devil opened up his case and he said: "I'll start this show."  
And fire flew from his fingertips as he resined up his bow.  
And he pulled the bow across his strings and it made an evil hiss.  
Then a band of demons joined in and it sounded something like this.  
When the devil finished, Johnny said: "Well you're pretty good ol' son.  
"But if you'll sit down in that chair, right there, and let me show you how its done."  
**Charlie Daniels--**The Devil Went Down to Georgia 

The moon finally crawled out from behind the wall of black cotton in the sky. Stars dangled above twisting trees. The wind kicked up a cloud of dust five feet from us. It danced hypnotically, going through each sandy pirouette with graceful ease.

Unconsciously the grip around my gun tightened. The handle slid against the base of my palm and I had to squeeze my fingers in order to keep it still. I didn't dare touch the trigger. The safety was off and that was all that I needed to reassure myself of any fears that wanted to creep in.

Dean led the way towards the remains of the church. We'd walked for less than a few minutes and although nothing had happened in that short expanse of time, the tension in Dean's shoulders had never left. The shotgun no longer remained tucked beneath his arm, but cut through the ebony like some metal appendage that he held with a fierce grip in his hand. He moved swiftly and silently through the dark blades of green. I did my best to mimic his movements. Every step he took, I followed with one similar to his. It was as though we were marching through knee deep snow and the only way from me to catch up was to hop from one imprint to the next.

The wind blew strong at our backs. Dean's movements slowed and then so did mine. There was a low growl. It echoed off the wall of trees that fenced in the cemetery. As the growl grew louder it turned into a screech and as the screech turned into a painful wail the bushes next to me rustled. Not lightly either. It was as though the shrub was tearing itself apart. I gasped, hands tightening on the gun and jumped back at the sight. Dean must have felt me shift away from him because a moment later he was pivoting on his left and bringing the shotgun around with his right. It happened so fast that I barely had enough time to duck as the barrel of the gun sliced through the air inches above my head.

The rustling stopped just as Dean began to catch his breath. Clouds of smoke filtered out from his mouth as he breathed heavily into the night air. The shotgun went slack in his arm. He used the other arm to cover the area above his heart. I watched him before cautiously standing to my rightful height. He turned to look at me.

Lowering his hand from his chest he said "It was just the wind."

"Yeah, I get that now."

"Come on, let's kill this thing and get out of here."

The gun in hand, he gave me the once over before turning to pick up where we'd left off. I followed behind Dean, silently scolding myself for letting my nerves get the best of me. I'd already proven to Dean that I was a liability to him and Sam. Twice as a matter of fact. I wouldn't allow my inexperience to put them in greater danger. I'd stay back, out of the fight unless called upon. I'd watch Dean's back; shoot a few rounds of silver into any shadows with glowing eyes. Bing, Bang, Boom. Wipe my hands clean and then we'd leave; simple as that.

"Leah, watch yourself."

I startled from my thoughts as Dean's arm shot out in front of me, blocking my path. I stumbled to a stop, falling forward into his arm before catching my balance again. He nodded his head to a heap of cement a few feet from us. I looked down and realized that we were standing right next to a chunk of rock wall that must have helped hold up the old church.

"Thanks" I mumbled, fingers wrapping nervously around my gun. I gave my leg a little shake to feel the sheathed knife in my boot. Dean gave me an odd look that I ignored. Instead I focused my attention on the pile of rubble and not on thinking of some cute quip. "So, what now?"

"I'm not sure." He paused and tucked the shotgun under his arm before running a callused hand across his face. The trained hunter surveyed the small area of headstones and trees, searching far across towards the way we'd come. "Damnit, where the hell is Sam?"

I sighed. Obviously Dean would be thinking about his little brother. I wanted to put a comforting hand on his shoulder but didn't bother. It would have been too awkward and I doubted that he'd want me comforting him at the moment.

"I'm sure he's fine Dean. He just had to check out that tree stump, remember? I mean, what's a stump gonna do, give him a splinter?"

Dean seemed to relax a little more. "You're right. He's fine. I just wish he'd finish up and get his ass over here and help me figure out what the hell were supposed to do."

"And what am I? Chopped onions?"

"It's chopped liver."

"Shut up and let me help" I growled and with a playful shove stepped past him and towards what was left of the church.

I could hear him following behind me, his steps more carefully placed than my own and it wasn't until I reached a far sized section of broken cement and rock that I realized why he was being so cautious. We were still on a hunt. Anything could happen and at any moment, just unexpectedly.

I squatted down next to the rubble, reaching recklessly for a fist sized piece of the church when the wind decided to turn from bad to worse. The trees overhead shook, raining leaves and branches down upon us. It was then that things turned to shit. I'd just grabbed the piece of rock and was bringing it towards my face when I heard a thump behind me and found myself watching Dean get blown backwards. He was tossed a few feet, nothing too bad and I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw him start to sit back up.

"Leah!"

The wind howled, cutting off anything else the eldest Winchester might want to call out. I turned back to the church remains in time to catch a rather large piece of cement coming my way. A cry escaped my lips as I hit the grass, the cement missing my head but taking a chunk of my right shoulder just the same. A pain erupted beneath my chest moments after it hit the cemetery floor. Dean was shouting my name but I didn't know where he was. There was a fire burning in my shoulder and it was winding its way down into my fingertips. The air felt as if it had been sucked dry from my lungs but I knew I was still breathing because I could make out the sounds of my struggled pants.

"Leah, are you alright? Leah!"

The shuffling of grass forced me to roll onto my back. I opened my eyes wider and found Dean looking down at me. I caught his outstretched hand with my left and used what was left of my strength to get back on my feet. He didn't look any worse for wear but the tear in my t-shirt and skin told me I was now damaged goods.

"You okay?"

"What the hell was that?" I cried, bringing a shaky hand to my shoulder where I could prod it and baby it until the pain died down.

"I'm guessing it's what we came here for."

"Hmph, stupid supernatural bitch" I cursed, ignoring the look I got from Dean. "Jeez, where's my gun?"

I moved forward, cautiously stepping around the rubble in search of my gun.

"It must have gotten knocked out of my hand when the cement hit me."

"Leah, it's right here."

Sure enough there it was, safely in the palm of Dean's left hand. I smiled and jogged over to him, taking my weapon into my hands and checking to make sure it was still fine.

"Your shoulder looks pretty bad" he stated.

"Yeah, well, you can pimp me all up with some bandages and rubbing alcohol later. Let's just finish this thing first."

Of course things couldn't be that simple. The moment the words left my mouth a shrill cry rang out through the cemetery. The thing that made my stomach churn was the fact that this time it wasn't the wind. This was human. Dean's eyes widened and he raised the gun hurriedly into the air.

"Sam?" he whispered in a voice I'd never heard on anyone. It was a mix of disbelief and something that didn't sound good on Dean; fear.

Once more the noise bounced off the wall of trees, knocking me back in surprise and sending Dean forward, sprinting through the grass and leaping over headstones like Donovan Bailey. He was already clear out of sight when I started to come back down.

Nervously I took in my surroundings, shaking off the cold sweat that had left a dewy layer across my face. I immediately noticed Dean's absence and started to panic. The handgun found its way in front of my chest, aimed protectively towards anything that dared take me on. However, the silver barrel tremble dangerously and not in the intimidating way I wanted it to. Actually, it wasn't the gun that was unstable, but my entire body. My hands couldn't stay still and my knees were beginning to feel weak.

"Damn it, Dean."

I did a three sixty, staring down the trees and headstones in fear that they may come alive. The shadows were tiptoeing on the cemetery carpet but I couldn't find who they belonged to. There weren't any sounds. No howling wind, no rustling in the bushes. Even the faraway cry that had sent Dean off into the night no longer drifted across the chilled air. I could hear my heart beating though. Strong and fast, trying to free itself from my chest and I was barely keeping it down.

There was a light breeze that stirred up the hairs on the back of my neck. I squeezed the handle of my gun. Suddenly that feeling of being watched crept into my stomach. Apprehension burned my throat because I so desperately wanted to scream in spite of it all and yet the fear made me mute. The sound of stones banging lightly off one another followed all this. I could hear the rocks shuffling in the grass and it had only been a few minutes ago when a cement block had targeted me on its own accord.

Hesitant at first, I finally allowed myself to glance over my shoulder. The gun nearly fell to the ground as the hold I had on it slipped at the sight. My eyes knew what they were seeing but the reasonable part of me kept shouting that this wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. It was happening.

Piece by piece, cement block by cement block, the church was slowly rebuilding itself. They say Rome wasn't built in a day but hell; this church was being built in seconds. A quarter of the stone building was already up and it was continuing to grow. Each remaining piece picked itself off the ground, floating through the air and setting itself in its rightful spot. There were gaps here and there where pieces no longer existed but it was damn near a whole church coming together before my very eyes.

"This isn't supernatural" I muttered, stepping away from the church. "This is fu…"

"Now, now Leah, can we not keep this PG?"

The grip returned on my gun in response to the voice. Moving to face him, my finger instinctively coiled around the trigger. He was covered by the elongated shadow of a nearby tree but I knew that voice. That voice would be the death of me.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Awe, don't be mad. To be honest I expected a nicer greeting than that from you. Even an apology."

"An apology for what?"

"Oh, well you left me last time in that very dark room, without so much as a goodbye."

I raised the gun and pointed it warningly in his direction. "Yeah, well that's what happens when you try to kill people. Their manners just up and disappear."

He stepped forward, out from the shadow and into the pale moonlight. It was the wicked grin that I noticed first, followed by the scruffy unshaven face and short dark hair. He was just a man. Dressed casually in a pair of dark jeans and a black pea coat, the man appeared to be nearing his late forties.

"What the hell are you?"

He made a move to come closer. I remembered the pain I'd felt earlier that day, when Missouri brought me back from that nightmare. The fire, the melting of my flesh and pants as they became one. I shot off a round into the ground, inches from his foot. Dirt and grass exploded outwards and rained down upon his shoes.

"You've got nerve girl."

"Screw you and don't move or I'll bust another cap you sick son of a bitch."

"Well, there goes the PG rating."

"This whole charade turned into R when you decided to crash my Jetta. Now what the hell are you?"

The confident smile faltered a moment. He turned to look off into the distance but I couldn't see anything. When he faced me once more the whites of his eyes were a solid red and then just as quickly, it was gone.

"I take it from your silence that you're impressed."

The impulse to hightail it out of the cemetery was so strong as he stood there, waiting for my reaction. I tried to overcompensate for the sheer terror I was feeling and let out a snort. "Yeah, right."

A dull laugh floated across the air. "You know, I do find your shaky confidence very much amusing."

"Well, I'm glad I could be good for something. And all this time I thought you only hung around for my looks. So, you gonna tell me what you are or are we going to have to play twenty one questions first?"

"Amusing," the smile disappeared "but it grows tiresome very fast."

With a gesture of his hand I was suddenly airborne. Tossed some twenty feet from the red eyed man, I hit the ground hard, the pain in my shoulder sending ripples of agony throughout my body. I let out a small moan and struggled to turn on my side. I'd managed to keep the gun in my hand during my brief flight, but I didn't think I had the strength in my right arm to lift it, let alone shoot it. Quickly I dropped it into my left hand and aimed it back towards where the man had been but as I did I soon realized he was no longer there.

"Oh, this is just freakin' peachy."

I forced myself to my knees. The sound of approaching footsteps from off to the right reached my ears. I raised the gun and pointed it into the darkness.

"I can't believe you just left her."

"I can't believe you managed to trip over the stump you were looking for, cry like a girl and then cry once more when you rolled down the hill. Damn it, I thought you were getting killed or something."

"Or something."

"What was that?"

"Nothing, let's just find…Leah?"

Peering out over the barrel of the handgun, I was finally able to make out the lanky form of Sam Winchester. The young hunter never looked as good as he did in that moment and then Dean suddenly appeared beside him and everything just got better. I watched them, dragging their feet at a snails pace. I struggled to my full height and met them halfway, gasping and out of breath by the time I stumbled forward into Dean's chest.

"Chicks are always falling for me" he quipped, cocky grin following close behind.

I didn't even bother to acknowledge it this time. Looking from one to the other, I glance hurriedly over my shoulder and then towards the cemetery gates, thinking we had to hurry before that thing came back.

"We have to get out of here. Sam," I grabbed a fistful of shirt and pulled him closer, knowing he would be the most reasonable one to talk to. "We have to leave. Things are what we thought they were. He had red eyes. I mean that's not normal right? Demons have black or sometimes yellow, but not red…"

"Shh, Leah, what are you talking about. Slow it down to people talk okay?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Don't shush me Sam Winchester. This thing that's here, he's not a demon. He had red eyes, now you tell me what the hell has red eyes?"

"What hell? Sam!"

Neither of us had noticed Dean's sudden disappearance from our discussion. When he called out both of us turned and saw what he was now gawking at and what I already knew. There before us, looming overhead ominously in the glow of the midnight sun was the church, rebuilt and standing tall and indestructible.

"There wasn't a church when I left" Dean stated. I turned to him scoffed.

"Thanks Dean, I was beginning to think I just missed it the first time we came in."

Together we shifted our attention on Sam who remained quiet, standing to our left, staring wide eyed at the church.

"Sam?" Dean called.

I reached out a tentative hand and took Sam's into mine, forcing him to look at me and break away from the shock that seemed to be setting in. He flashed me a thankful smile before it faded away once again into a frown.

"Sam, do you know what the guy is?"

Sam nodded. "He's a devil."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not THE devil but A devil?"

"Dean, I think this is going to be a little trickier than we thought."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means an exorcism for a demon probably won't do it."

"Awe crap."

**Author's Note:** _Sorry, to leave it there. I'm surprised I had time to write this much but I've got chores left and some tests to study for before the Oscars tonight. Wahoo! So, hope you enjoyed it and much more action in the next chappie. I wanted to fit it all in here but didn't have time. Hope you liked and please leave a nice little comment on your way out. Love ya guys!_


	18. Chapter 17: Part 1

**Author's Note**: _Hello again everyone. Ready for the next update? Sure ya are! Anywho, don't wanna ramble so here it is. Part 1 of chapter 17. I wanted to fit all the action and stuff in one long chapter but I haven't had time to write more. But, March Break is nearly here and I hope to have this story finished by the end of it. Next update will hopefully be Sunday. Hope you enjoy the chappie and as always leave behind a little review to let me know you were here!_

**Disclaimer: Okay, I only own Leah. Not Supernatural or the boys. Happy?**

**Crash Course**

**By: Babyhilts**

Chapter 17:

_oh lordy, trouble so hard_

_oh lordy, trouble so hard,_

_don't nobody know my troubles but God_

_don't nobody know my troubles but God_

_went down the hill, the other day_

_my soul got happy and stayed all day_

Natural Blues--**Moby**

Murmured voices in the wind; that was all Sam and Dean were now. They weren't very far. Sam had the duffel bag open on the ground in front of himself and his older brother. Their dad's journal was getting tossed from one set of hands to the next. Water stained pages tearing as their fingers flipped viciously through the leather bound book. Newspaper clippings and family photo's fell to the ground but neither boy seemed to notice.

I stood next the newly rebuilt church, running a trembling hand across the rough brick siding. It was definitely real. Part of me was hoping my hand would go right through the moment I went to touch it. A cold chill ran up and down my back. Nothing felt real. All of a sudden things were hitting me and I wasn't liking it; not one bit. Devils? Shotguns with rocksalt?

I looked down at my hands and saw them shaking. One of them still held the handgun.

"Well then college boy you tell me, what are we supposed to do then, huh?"

Dean directed his anger with a powerful kick to the duffel bag. The guns rattled as they rolled towards me. Sam sighed and continued to look through the journal. I watched, quietly lost in my own thoughts as their feet trampled over a photo of the three Winchester men. Dean was stirring in his own frustrations and anger, picking the bag back up and rummaging around inside. Sam was busy reading the chicken scratch their dad had left behind.

The sneaker removed itself from the old Polaroid. Mud and grass created a thick later atop the memories and as I went to remove it from the soiled earth, I felt it wilt in my hands. It was wet and barely together but I held it cautiously in my open palm, letting the air dry the dampened edges. I lightly removed the dirt from the photo, scraping away until three young faces appeared in my hand.

"I think I might have something."

The voice didn't register with me. Not at first anyway. I knew it was Sam's and I heard him shuffling in the grass next to me but that was it. Everything else but the photo I ignored. I cradled their faces, their innocence. I wondered how old they were in it.

"What's this?"

A callused hand brushed against my wrists, pulling them into the light. Dean's attention was on the photo and he stared at it intently, suddenly lost in the memories himself. When he raised his head our eyes locked in with one another. The hazel green squinted through the thickening dark. Apprehension and fear stared back at me but his face was already set in determination. He wore the face of a warrior. I glanced down at the photograph and back up at him and still saw the little boy. There was no difference between the Dean in the photograph and the one that was here now. They were both the same innocent child that sought the truth and tried to protect their little brother. He wasn't so superhuman after all.

"Where did you get this?"

"Fell out of your dad's journal" I whispered. They were the first words I'd spoken in a while. "Here," I went to hand it to him, feeling suddenly so uncomfortable holding the photo.

Dean shook his head. "You keep it for now. It's still wet."

A genuine smile graced his lips for once. I never thought I'd see the day and then, it was gone. He moved towards his younger brother and once again I felt myself zoning out. They were discussing something about Latin protection rituals, running their hands through the book Missouri had given me and arguing in that old familiar Winchester fashion.

The grass stirred around my feet. Clouds drifted across the night sky, covering the moon in a blanket of dark ebony, as if tucking it in for bed. Shadows vanquished from the cemetery. It was now time for their physical counterparts to come out and play. Swallowed in thick black, I felt the photo slip from my hands as I drew the gun against my chest. The lack of moonlight sent me into a panic. I kept quiet for fear that something lurked not far from where I stood; ready to pull me further into the depths of the night. I stumbled forward, disoriented and unsure of where to step.

A burst of yellow light cut through the ebony. I froze, blinded on the spot. The gun shook in my hands as I tried to look past the offending light enough to get off a shot.

"Sam, careful, she's going to shoot you. Lower the damn flashlight."

I heard someone moving through the grass towards me. The light fell to my chest and as the movement increased, I was relieved to see Dean, spotlighted from the flashlight and making his way to my side. He grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me forward without a word.

Sam was waiting with Missouri's book tucked under one arm and the flashlight under the other. Dean relinquished the grip he had on me and moved to take the shotgun he'd left laying on the ground.

"Dean, what's going on?"

"Sammy thinks he found something that may work. It's not a sure thing, but it'll trap the son of a bitch, give us time to kill it."

I nodded, not really understanding and not trying to understand. My nerves were getting the best of me. I couldn't point the gun straight and my legs were getting wobbly.

"Do we even know how to kill it?"

The brothers turned and looked at one another, a silent exchange of words being passed amongst them.

"No, we don't" Sam admitted.

"What? Then why are we still here…"

The wind screeched, tearing through the trees and empty back road. I ran forward, forgetting to be tough and nearly throwing myself at Sam as the weather picked up and the screech became deafening.

Eyes welling up with tears, I knotted my hand in Sam's t-shirt and pulled him close to me. This wasn't fun anymore, I realized as I held onto him for dear life.

"Sam, lets leave."

The trees swayed violently. Dean raised the shotgun, keeping it trained on the church and surrounding area. In the distance I could make out the ominous bang, bang, as the metal gate slammed open and close. My fist tightened around Sam and I pressed myself closer to his chest.

"Please. Sam, please, let's just get out of here."

"Shh, relax Leah…"

"No. We don't have a plan. This is suicide. Come on. Please Sam" I forced him to look at me. "Tell Dean this is stupid. Tell him we'll come back, just please…"

"Will you shut up" Dean grounded out.

He was standing in front of Sam and I, the gun still raised, glancing at me over his shoulder. He tried to look annoyed but the fear shone right through.

"No ones going to die okay…"

I tired to take comfort in Dean's words but I knew he couldn't keep that promise. Not now with everything shot to hell.

Just as the trained hunter turned back to the church, ready to shoot anything that moved, Sam was torn from my arms. His shirt literally ripped from my hands, I cried out as my index and middle finger bent the wrong way and I fell onto my back. The flashlight and book hit the grass where the youngest Winchester had stood moments earlier. The protection suddenly gone, I took up hunter mode once again and drew my gun on the darkness. There was a heavy thud some few feet away from where I was now and I knew that it was Sam's body hitting the earth.

"Sam!" I called out, struggling to my feet and doing my best to aim with my left hand. I turned around, heart thudding heavily beneath my light t-shirt as it pumped the panic and adrenaline through my veins. "Dean?"

For a brief moment our eyes met. The gold flecks sparkled through the encroaching dark, the Winchester grin followed and then he was sailing through the air as if suddenly gravity had decided to take a vacation. His back made contact with one of the church walls. Whatever had thrown him didn't keep him there. He fell forward seconds after, chest hitting the ground he let out a pained moan before his body went completely still.

I stood my ground, whispering his name as I saw the light extinguish from his eyes. I was sure he was dead but then I heard the ragged breathing and saw his back lift up from the ground with every struggled intake of breath.

I prayed Sam was still conscious enough to help me. If he wasn't then I didn't know what I would do. I couldn't read Latin and I sure as hell didn't know a thing about getting rid of a devil.

Picking up the flashlight and book, I made my way to Dean's side. I turned him onto his back, running gentle hands across his neck until I found a pulse. It seemed strong enough but he was definitely not waking up anytime soon.

"Come on Dean" I tapped his cheek hoping that would do some good but he didn't answer. Typical Winchester, I joked but inwardly I was ready to run and leave him there. I wouldn't but God did I want to.

"Shame, isn't it."

The book slipped from my hands as I brought the flashlight and handgun around, directing it at the figure that was now winding its way around the corner of the church. Shakily I got to my feet and took up a fighting stance in front of Dean. A smile curled the devil's lips, parting them enough so that he could let loose a dull chuckle.

"Yep, it really is a shame. Just when you three were starting to get attached."

"Shut it" I yelled.

"Or what, you'll 'bust a cap?' You know that won't do a damn thing to me."

My hands shook violently as I raised the gun higher, pointing it directly at his chest, despite the fact that I knew what he said was true. Part of me wanted to believe that the handgun still offered protection.

"What did you do to Sam?"

"Oh, he's around. Not for very much longer mind you. Of course, none of you will be."

"You seem quite sure of yourself."

"I told you. The Winchesters would die right here in Stull and now you will die along with them."

"Yeah, yeah. I heard the whole ominous 'you're going to die Leah Carlson' speech before, remember?"

"I do believe I already mentioned how tiresome this petty banter becomes" he snarled.

He raised a single hand into the air. Thick and callused, it hung above his head and with a quick flick of his wrist I was shoved back, loosing my footing and tripping over Dean's prone form. The oldest Winchester moaned but did nothing else after.

I dug the heels of my hands into the earth, trying to sit myself back up when I felt a heavy pressure on top my chest. I let out a small umph sound as my back hit the grassy carpet. The pressure increased rapidly. I stared up at the black tapestry, feeling my ribs cave in from the weight. I gasped, searching for fresh air but it never came. The stars danced across the midnight sky as my vision began to blurr.

"For all the trouble I went to in bringing you here" the devil scoffed. "You only created more."

I was sure I could feel each rib, slowly folding in towards my lungs. Soon the bone would puncture a whole through the soft organ and then I knew I'd be dead for sure.

A dull laugh stirred me from the pain. I knew it was his and I did my best to ignore it.

Concentrate on your breathing. In, out, in, out. The mantra played on repeat in my head. Each gasping breath and now new air seemed to enter my body. Tears escaped from the corners of my eyes, running rampant down my cold cheeks. The pressure increased once again and I couldn't help but let out a painful cry as one of my bones made a cracking sound.

"I told you to stay out of this Leah Carlson. I warned you of the consequences."

A single gun shot tore through the night. It was loud enough to reach me through the agony. Dean mumbled something incoherent next to me. The pressure slowly dissipated but the pain still lingered. Greedily I sucked in the air that had been denied to me only seconds before.

I could hear the fast approach of feet sounded somewhere to my right. The urge to run was so strong at that moment. Fear was churning deep within the depths of my stomach. A warm hand latched onto my arm and I let out a terrified cry before doing my best to pull from the hold. It did nothing better than aggravate my ribs. Defeat settled in as the pain caught up with me and I sunk back into the grass, shivering and moaning.

"Leah?"

The voice was soft; comforting really. I opened my eyes and through a thin layer of newly formed tears made out the boyish form of Sam Winchester. He was covered in dirt and grass but he was there nonetheless, and fully unconscious.

"Dean," and with a jerk of my head motioned to his still brother. Sam only nodded and slipped his arm under my neck before sitting me up. I bit back any objections to the movement.

"He'll be fine and awake soon" Sam whispered.

"Where is he?"

I glanced to where the red eye man had been standing and saw nothing but open space.

"Shot him."

"Did it kill him?"

Sam frowned. "No. I think it just startled him. He'll be back. I'm sure of it."

The smooth, confident hands of the young hunter soon found themselves under my thin t-shirt. He raised it to just a few inches below my braw and at first I wanted to protest. This was a hunt not a peep show and really, I wasn't all that comfortable having the well toned young man running his fingers over my little rolls of winter flab which just happened to stay there year round. I went to push the shirt back down but Sam protested, swatting my hands away and continuing his examination.

"What happened?" he asked while prodding my left side.

"I don't know. It was like he was crushing me to death."

He poked his bony, sasquatch fingers into my right side. One rib and then the next until he touched the third and I let loose a surprised yelp.

"You're a little banged up."

"You think" I snapped, pulling the t-shirt back down and pushing him away.

Sam smiled "but, you'll live."

* * *


	19. Chapter 17: Part 2

**Author's Note:** _Well I'm back everyone. Nice little vacation I had and wow, look at that. An update! Hooray!!! So, this will be the second last chapter. It all comes down to this folks. The action, the tears, the pain, drama, everything. Hope its not too rushed or anything and you understand the ending of this if not just let me know and I'll do my best to clear things up. Anywho, enjoy and keep your eyes peeled for the last chapter. It should be up in a day or two, depends on how many reviews I get. ;) ;)_

**Side note**:_ I had BAD! MAJOR! PAINFUL even, writers block. I could barely write and so the beginning of this chapter is a result of that. If it stinks I'ts because I was struggling to write and I wasn't in the game. Hope its not too bad. :( There, you were warned._

_Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural. Dang_!

**Crash Course**

**By: Babyhilts**

Chapter 17: Part 2

_Yesterday is a wrinkle on your forehead_

_Yesterday is a promise that you've broken_

_Don't close your eyes_

_Don't close your eyes_

_This is your life and today is all you got now_

_And today is all you'll ever have_

_Don't close your eyes_

_Don't close your eyes_

_This is your life are you who you wanna be_

This is your life--**Switchfoot**

Sam flipped hurriedly through the leather bound book. Head lowered and brow creased with frustration. I watched over his shoulder as another page was viciously turned. The moment he knew I wasn't going to die from the assault to my chest, he took it upon himself to finish the hunt. Going through the book and searching for any possible way of killing the red eyed son of a bitch. I was thinking the same as he was. That perhaps, just maybe, Dean and him had missed something. Of course, everyone always hopes for that when it comes down to the wire.

The paper crunched and wrinkled as his callused hands flipped. Crunch, wrinkle, flip. Crunch, wrinkle, flip. Watching Sam Winchester was like watching a wild undergraduate student, high on caffeine, trying to cram for his exams; desperate and unsettling. His soft eyes had become glassy and I knew he wasn't really there with Dean and me anymore. He was in another place. A place filled with Latin protection rituals and pentagrams.

White light danced across the page Sam was reading. The shaggy head shifted until a tired face peered over a broad shoulder. It wasn't until then that I became aware of what was going on. With a gentle smile, Sam turned his attention away from the book and steadied my hand. It had been shaking. Holding the flashlight and trembling to the point that Sam was probably seeing more of the dark than the pages themselves.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

I felt like an idiot. Here he was, watching out for his unconscious brother, a dumb blonde chick from Canada and looking to find some way of killing a devil and here all I had to do was hold a flashlight and I couldn't even get that right.

Taking my hands from his, I wrapped them both around the flashlight, holding the metal handle as tightly as I could in my hands. Sam's smirk widened. I didn't see what was so funny. If God should strike me dead right then and there, I was going to do my part in this hunt.

"Leah, it's okay."

"What are you talking about? I'm fine Sam. Keep reading before that thing comes back."

Sam shook his head and eased forward, prying my fingers apart until the flashlight fell into his lap. He nodded to where Dean still lay, dead to the world.

"Go watch him for a while. Try and get him to come around."

"But Sam, I can do this. Just let me help…"

"That would help. Come on, you look about as tired as I feel. Besides, I didn't get tossed around like a sack of potatoes five minutes ago. So go."

He gave me a playful shove in his brother's direction. I grunted my disapproval and was ready to let him hear about it but he had already gone back to reading.

Frustrated and yet a little relieved to be able to sit and relax for a few minutes I got to my feet. Brushing off layers of cemetery grass and mud, I walked to where Dean was. I pulled my hair loose and wrapped the elastic around my wrist. With my back to him I called out to Sam.

"You better not ask me to hold your flashlight for you ever again" I said in voice that was laced with pure hurt. Well, not completely pure.

Sam laughed and shook his head.

"Don't worry. I just hope I can manage."

The eldest Winchester moaned, his head pressing further into the soggy earth by my knees. I got close and pulled his head into my lap. Unlike the other times, this time he didn't stop with just one moan. He let loose one more and tossed his right cheek into my thigh. His teeth clicked as his top hit his bottom. A groan followed and he continued to fidget. I moved in for a closer look, our faces inches apart. There was movement behind his closed eyes.

"I think he's coming around."

"Good, try and make sure he stays that way. We need all the help we can get."

Head still tossing in my lap, I started to call the older man back into the real world. His face scrunched up like he took a bite of a lemon before relaxing.

"Oh, no you don't. Dean Winchester you wake up right now."

He groaned and hit his left cheek against my thigh. I caressed his face with the palms of my hands. Shaky fingers made their way over his stubble cheeks and into his hair. I massaged his temples, whispering words of encouragement. Another moan escaped his chapped lips but this time it was a moan of pleasure. An instant later his eyes began to flutter and a set of unfocused hazel orbs were staring up at me, looking lost and confused.

"Welcome back" I said.

He cocked his head and in a raspy voice asked "Kate Moss?"

My fingers stopped mid massage. "No. Leah Carlson."

Dean squinted his eyes a little more before shutting them completely. "Damn."

"Excuse me?"

"For a second I thought I was in heaven."

He moved his head back into place against my thigh.

"And what, sitting in a cemetery with me is hell?"

"No" he groaned "but its close enough."

"You cocky son of a…"

With a harsh shove, I removed Dean's head from my lap. It hit the grass below with a thud followed by a short lived yelp. By now his eyes were wide and he was maneuvering himself onto his stomach.

"Jesus woman, I'm barely conscious here."

Hands on my hips, I loomed over his sprawled form, seething like a rabid animal. My hair fell across my face in a static mess of blonde curls and I waved my hands around dramatically illustrating my rage.

"Well maybe you can get Kate Moss to nurse you."

"Are you kidding me? Come on…"

"No you come on. You know what you are Dean Winchester? You are an overgrown teenager!"

Dean glared and propped himself onto his elbows.

"You're unbelievable you know that? I mean is it that hard for you to get through more than five minutes without making some type of feminist, independent woman, don't need no man crap?"

"What?"

"You know what I mean. Everything you say makes it seems as though I'm the thing in Darwin's theory that every other man evolved from. Or that I only think with my downstairs brain or…"

"Oh, save it for Oprah Dean."

Dean veered his head back as though he'd been slapped in the face.

I smirked. "This isn't some after school special. You really think I wanna listen to you pull a chick flick."

"This is not a chick flick" he said through clenched teeth.

"Is."

"Are you five? I'm not doing this."

"Fine."

"Besides, I'm right. It isn't."

I laughed out loud or lol'd if you will and said "Hey Sam, you're the queen of chick flicks. On a scale of one to Oprah, how chick flicky was that?"

No one answered. Dean adjusted himself on the grass and I looked to where I had last seen Sam but there was no one there. The flashlight was still on, yet it now lay lonely on the damp grass. The book was missing.

"Sammy?"

Dean stumbled to my side, bracing himself against my back. He grabbed onto my left shoulder, jarring my sore chest and ribs and bringing me to let out a low growl of discomfort. Without a word he lowered his hands and lifted the bottom of my shirt, just as his brother had done and took a good look at the left side of my ribs. I shooed the comforting hand away and pulled the fabric back into place.

"It's nothing."

"Like hell it's nothing. What happened to you?"

"I'm fine Dean. What I'm more worried about right now is Sam."

Guilt for leaving the young man alone was starting to eat away at me. I moved to pick up the flashlight, thinking that if I hadn't left his side than maybe he'd still be there.

Gripping the metal in my hand, I scanned the surrounding area. The beam revealed only so much and what the light didn't show, I tried to find by squinting my eyes and peering out behind the pale light.

Dean was moving behind me, cocking his rock salt filled shot gun and doing his own surveying. Hunter mode set in both of us we began to move as one unit, searching the cemetery for the youngest Winchester. I was wishing I hadn't lost my handgun but I wasn't all that scared. I still had the hunting knife tucked safely in my boot. Maybe this would be a good time to take it out.

The thought was quickly extinguished however when a familiar shape appeared ahead of us. Not bringing it to Dean's attention just yet, I stepped cautiously around the tombstones. A lanky form that could only be Sam Winchester was pinned to a nearby birch tree. Head lowered, chin resting on his chest. I thought I could see blood but I was still too far away.

"Dean" I whispered.

He looked to where the yellow beam still spotlighted the young Winchester and tightened his grip on the shotgun. He moved with the caution and stealth of a well trained hunter. I followed a few feet behind, making sure to keep enough light on the young man.

Once we reached our destination it became quite clear that there was nothing holding him up, nothing we could see anyway. I tensed at this realization, knowing the red eyed man couldn't be too far away.

Dean reached under Sam's chin and in true big brother fashion, lifted it until he could get a good look at his sibling's battered face. Rivers of dark red scarred the young man's cheeks while a purple bruise marred his right temple. Sam pulled away from the warm touch of Dean's hand and began to open his eyes.

"Dean?" he groaned.

"Sammy what did I tell you about blocking with your face?"

"Sorry" he mumbled and lowered his head as if it had taken a lot out of him to get out those two words.

"Well, isn't this just darling."

The pale beam wavered as my hands began to shake. Whatever tension I had been feeling was nothing compared to what I was feeling now. Dean removed his hand from Sam and used it to steady his gun. Together we turned. Me with my flashlight, him with his gun and we caught the man, the devil with the red eyes who had pinned Sammy to the tree.

"You kids sure are cute you know that?"

Dean raised the gun into the air and started to aim. If the man was at all intimidated by the gesture he did nothing to show it.

I took this time to step away from Dean. I wanted to get that damn knife out of my boot. The devil had his attention completely on the hunter and if I could just get out that blade than I knew I could protect myself. I mean what was I supposed to do with a flashlight? Shadow puppet him to death?

"Dean Winchester. All finished your beauty sleep?"

My fingers found the sheathed knife. They grazed the handle and inched their way towards the blade. I tugged at the casing around the sharpened metal, doing my best to free it from the protective fabric.

Taking on a husky tone Dean replied "Yeah just can't get enough of it."

I smiled, feeling the fabric start to fall away. I mentally congratulated Dean, encouraging him to throw a few cocky insults into the mix.

"I'm sure" the man muttered.

The sheath slid off the blade and dropped into my boot. I moved my hand back up to the handle when a feeling of unease settled in.

"What have we got here?"

Lifting my head, I struggled to make out Dean and the devil through the curtain of blonde hair dangling in front of me.

The strange man smirked and shook his head mockingly in my direction. "Oh Leah. I can't have you playing with sharp objects. You know that."

I struggled desperately with the blade and as it was halfway out the boot I felt myself tossed some few feet off the ground. Wind knocked from my lungs, I gasped, turning onto my side and beginning to rise to my feet. The blade was cutting into my ankle but I didn't have time to pull it free. An invisible hand shoved me in the back and I was once again on the ground. Panting on my knees, I dug my fists into the ground and tried to get up once more.

"She doesn't give up does she Dean?" I heard the demon say. From the darkness I felt a foot make contact with my right side and I flipped onto my back with a cry of pain.

"You son of a bitch. I'm going to kill you. You hear me!"

A harsh laugh cut through the night air, stirring the grass and causing the trees to sway furiously back and fourth.

"That'd be a neat trick boy."

A shot rang out and Dean -minus the shotgun- landed next to me on the ground. He gasped, sucking in quick, rapid breaths as he tried to get himself together.

"Stay put" were his instructions before he got back on his feet and charged the devil. An instant later he was lying next to me, panting once again.

"You three" the man snickered. "You are a pathetic bunch."

Dean seemed livid by the comment and was already propping himself up when I gave him a quick shove in the chest. He turned hateful eyes upon me and instead of reacting to the look I pulled open his leather coat and scooped out the flask of holy water.

"Leah, what are you doing?"

"Never mind" I said and got to my feet.

"Well, back for more little girl?"

I smirked. "Something like that."

Dean laced his hand in mine and drew me behind him.

"Dean!"

"Come on boy. She's a big girl. If she wants to take me on let her."

Dean's hand was ripped from mine as his body was flung to the ground. He groaned and tried to sit up but an invisible force seemed to be making sure he stayed down.

"Dean!"

Sam's cries reached us from where he was still pinned to the tree. I turned to the eldest Winchester and couldn't help but feel responsible for the both of them. If only I hadn't interfered in all of this than maybe they'd be wining.

I began to twist the lid of the flask.

"Heartbreaking isn't it?"

I continued to unscrew the cap. "What is?"

"Them" he gestured to Dean and then to his brother. "You know it's your fault that their loosing. Your fault that Dean's little brother is hurt."

The cap stopped turning and my fingers stayed frozen on the lid. I could feel Dean's eyes on me and I couldn't help but glance at him. He seemed so helpless pinned to the grass that way. I looked back to the devil, the guilt lacing the blood in my veins.

"Leah, he's playing you. Don't listen to him. It's not your fault…"

"Boy shut it."

The sound of flesh against flesh echoed off the wall of trees. Dean's lip was split. He spit out the blood and glared defiantly at the man.

"You hit like my brother." He smirked. "Leah, snap out of it damnit. He's lying."

"No." I whispered. "It's true."

The devil seemed to approve of my answer. I kept my eyes unfocused and my attention on the ground, although I could still make out his movements from the corner of my eye. He was walking towards me.

"Leah, what the hell. Do something."

"No Dean. It's my fault. I should have stayed with Missouri. You were right. He is right."

"Leah, no. I swear to God if you don't snap out of it I'm going to kick your ass myself you here me?"

I felt a heavy hand land on top of my shoulder. Looking up, I found myself locked in the cold, red eyed gaze of the dark haired man. He smirked.

"You are right Leah."

I nodded and twisted the lid the rest of the way off the flask of holy water. The cap dropped soundlessly to the grassy floor below. I wrapped my hand tightly about the metal body.

"I know" I whispered and before anyone could see it coming, I pulled myself out from under the hand. Flask high in the air, I gave it a hard shake, spraying holy water over the red eyed man. He screamed, his pain ripping through the midnight air as I continued to douse him. He brought his hands up to protect his face and stumbled backwards, tripping over his feet as he did his best to get away from the onslaught of water. However, with every step he took back, I took two more forward. I heard Sam yelling something behind me and heard the running of feet. The flask was nearly empty when a set of rough hands grabbed hold of my flask shaking arm and pulled me into them.

I collided with Dean's chest. The flask slipped from hands on impact

"You are one crazy chick you know that?"

I smirked. "Those high school drama classes sure paid off."

The youngest hunter appeared as only a shadow in the suffocating black ahead. No longer restrained by supernatural powers, he walked steadily towards Dean and I. He wore a tired smile that did nothing to cover up the pain he was obviously feeling. Even from where I stood it was quite clear he was still suffering but at least he was free and mobile.

Dean relinquished the muscled arm that had been supporting my lower back, pulling me closer towards him. I gave him a nod of reassurance and slipped out of the protective hold. It felt comforting and safe to have those arms wrapped about my waist that way, but it was foolish to stay like that. We were still on a hunt. Sam had been injured and the two of us had been like rabbits caught in a snare only a few minutes earlier.

Sam's approach slowed as he drew closer to us. My heart tightened, not out of fear, but of pure relief at the small gem I saw tucked in the crook of his left arm. After his short Houdini act I had thought the worst had happened to the book Missouri had leant us. Not that it had gotten stolen and we'd have to pay some outrageous library fee, but that the red eyed stranger had pocketed it or that it had gotten lost in the scuffle. Without that torn, piece of leather and paper we had no hope of getting out of this thing; none at all. I didn't need to be a seasoned hunter to figure that out.

A low, animalistic sound erupted from behind Dean. It disrupted my moment of joy at seeing Sam and quickly jolted me back into reality. My gaze shifted to the ground where the flask continued to empty itself of the remaining holy water. There was the shuffling of feet through thick, uncut grass and weeds and I could hear the grunts of frustration.

Apprehension wrapped about me like a noose as I turned to meet this thing head on. The devil in question was hunched over like an arthritic old man. A meaty set of hands knotted themselves in his shirt, pulling and tugging, letting thick, swirls of white steam pour out of the burns that I had inflicted. I felt pride filter into my stomach, warming me like Scotch on a cold winter's day. The devil raised his head, eyes shimmering with red malice. A sadistic grin curled his lips and slowly he began to pull himself together. Straightening his back, he now appeared more confident and must have grown at least two feet in the last few minutes.

"Stupid, meddling bitch" he spat through clenched teeth. "I should have never brought you into this. Now I'm going to finish what I started."

I watched in awe as Dean moved in front of me, creating some type of man sexy wall as a defense. I wanted to point out to him that using your body as a shield wouldn't be the brightest idea but for some reason my brain and mouth were having a Cool Hand Luke moment. You know, 'what we have here is a failure to communicate' sort of thing.

The devil seemed to understand what Dean was doing. In one instant he took a step forward and in the next the trained hunter was on his knees, a deep cut oozing blood from his right breast.

"I've had about all I can take from you Winchesters."

I crouched down to Dean's level, grabbed his face in my hands and tried to get his eyes to focus on mine. He was panting, not too hard, but enough to send me into a panic. How deep was the cut? Was he now bleeding to death? How do I stop the blood and still fight this thing?

Someone was breathing harsh, gasping breaths into my ear. It wasn't Dean; I knew that because I was looking at him at the moment. They kept it up and I wanted to slam a fist full of knuckles into some part of them in order to silence the ragged breaths.

Dean's eyes finally focused on my own. His usual easy going demeanor faltered. A callused hand latched onto one of my arms.

"Leah…" he whispered and then he was gone. Tumbling through the grass and doing a few sets of sloppy somersaults.

"Can't have you hyperventilating on me just yet dear."

It was then that I noticed how hard it was becoming for me to get any air into my lungs. My chest felt tight and constricted and the pain from earlier was burning a trail of agony up and down my sides. I immediately thought back to that day where something similar had happened to me. Dean's instructions from the episode outside that greasy spoon in WestTexas floated back to me. I tried my best to take in deep, calming breaths. After another minute my breathing started to even out.

"There, are we all better now?"

"Bastard" I cursed, hands fisting at my side.

"Guess so."

Something tugged impatiently on my heels. I quickly lowered my head to the ground and within seconds felt myself dragged from behind. Wet clumps of earth shot out from under the heels of my boots. The knife shifted against my ankle and cut through the soft flesh once more. I was dragged rapidly through the cemetery and I could hear the familiar shouts of the two Winchesters. Trees blurred into one looming piece of rough bark and shriveled leaves. The stars ahead danced like tiny specks of dust illuminated by the night sky. My stomach curled and its contents nearly came back up as I was hurtled through the air and slammed, back first into one of the church walls.

Tears crept from my tightly closed eyelids. Pieces of brick shattered from the impact were now littering the grass. My feet were still firmly in place on level ground but the rest of me remained erect and pinned to the church. The pain took hold of me fast and all I wanted was to get away from it. More tears stained my cheeks as I realized how helpless I was at the moment. I wanted nothing more than to pull away from the church and let myself crumple to the ground in a mess of tears and flesh but I couldn't. That realization hurt more than anything.

"You son of a bitch. You let her go. She didn't do anything. It's us you want."

"Dean Winchester. Always willing to sacrifice himself to save the innocent."

"Yeah, your damn right I am."

Through a thin layer of dampened eyelashes and unshed tears I could see the red eyed man. He stood between the church where I was pinned and the spot on the cemetery carpet where Dean now lay. I looked closer and could make out Sam, once again pinned to a tree, however this one was closer and he didn't appear to be as helpless as his brother and I were. He had the book opened and was flipping like a madman through the already badly damaged pages. Luckily for him his arms hadn't been restrained otherwise I would have lost all hope.

"Well, unfortunately for you I intend to follow through with my plans for Ms. Carlson."

At the mention of my name the devil shifted his focus back on me. My bottom lip quivered in anticipation. I tried desperately to move my hands; to move my feet but it was useless. The devil's smirk grew even when I thought it couldn't get any bigger, but it did.

"You remember what I told you that day, in this very same spot? I said the Winchesters would die here in Stull or you, Leah Carlson would take their place. Well, it looks like I get both."

The man looked away a moment, back to Dean.

"You miss your mommy Dean?"

"What?"

"Of course you do. Who wouldn't miss their dead mother?"

Dean's jaw clamped shut as his eyes turned hard as stone.

"I'm sure Sammy over there sure wishes he could have known her. Hell, we all know how much he misses poor Jessica, don't we?"

"Yeah, well as much as I like this nostalgic walk down memory lane, how about you get to the point."

The devil laughed and cornered me in with his large frame. His hand cupped my chin. I flinched as the fingers outlined my jaw and wandered up into my blonde curls.

"That is just the point Dean. A nostalgic walk and I am your tour guide" he paused and turned my face towards Dean.

"She sure does look an awful like your Mary doesn't she? A bit fatter but you can still see it."

He lowered his hands and backed away one final time.

"You know Dean, I am a fan of older films. I like to watch them. Like to play them over and over again. Stop the reel right at my favourite spots and watch those again and again until I've had enough. It's the same way with reminiscing about old memories. I play the ones that I enjoyed again and again until I grow bored of it. But you know what I have yet to grow tired of?"

Dean's eyes widened. My feet slowly lifted off the ground. The rough brick of the church wall grinded painfully through my t-shirt and into my flesh as I was dragged upwards.

"I will never get tired of your mother's death. So beautifully executed it was. The raining down of embers on your little head as you watched confused under the nursery window. Sammy in your little arms; both of you unable to do a thing. Almost like you are now. But you see that was a demon and like I always say, 'Never send a demon to do a devil's job.' That is why you both are here now. I will finish what he could not do months ago and at the same time will get the chance to replay my favourite memory of all time. It's one of yours of course but I'm sure I'll get just as much satisfaction out of it as you will."

My back stopped its slow incline up the side of the church wall. Chin resting on my chest, I tried to expel the pain that was eating away at me. Panting, I stretched my head upwards and could make out the lean figure of Sam Winchester, still going by unnoticed with the leather bound book balancing awkwardly in his open hands. He seemed to have found what he was looking for as the pages no longer continued to turn.

"Sorry it had to come to this dear."

The devils eyes darkened until they reached a deep red. His hands twitched unsteadily at his sides. It looked as though he needed a fix of some sort but I soon realized that that wasn't why. A minute passed, his head lowered and his hands took on a dangerous shake and then suddenly pain was all around me. At first everywhere. My calves burned as though I'd run a marathon and even my teeth ached. Slowly the pain lessened but only because it was coming together in one large clump of torture.

A loud shriek, from deep within my chest tore through the night air. Tears poured down my face and I could barely see Sam staring at me from where he was still trapped. I looked down and was shocked to find my abdomen had split open, leaking a line of thick red. The waistband of my jeans soon turned brown and I vaguely thought that now I'd have to steal some more money from Dean to get myself a new pair.

"Leah!"

The pain increased and I cried out again. I heard Dean calling my name and I wanted nothing more than to find him but moving my head had become a hard task. It moved the wrong way and was heavy as hell. I saw the blood leaving me faster and faster. My pants were getting soaked in the dark liquid and I suddenly felt very cold. My arms dangled limply off the brick wall.

"Awe, nothing like a good dose of nostalgia. Wouldn't you say?" mused the devil.

"I swear to God. I will kill you" said Dean.

The devil laughed. A hearty laugh that if it wasn't laced with such sinister intent, would have seemed almost pleasing. The laugh grew, louder and more joyful until it became a scream. An agonizing wail came from the devil's mouth. I opened my eyes and watched his blurred figure stumble forward, hand over his chest. Immediately I thought I was hallucinating. That all the blood loss was making me see something that wasn't there and then a second later the pressure holding me to the church was gone.

Back no longer pinned to the rough brick wall, I was dropped like a piece of lead. I landed on my feet before the weight of standing up became too much and a second later crumpled to the ground. A Latin ritual carried its way across the air and Sam's comforting voice was the one yelling it. I smirked and fell face forward into the grass. The early morning dew felt nice against my skin. I lay there, letting the water take me in.

"Leah, are you okay?"

Dean was at my side, hands around me and pulling me into his lap. I didn't have the strength to protest as he let my back rest on his folded knees. He inched my shirt up, past the braw until it was more of a scarf than anything. He swore and I felt his callused fingers make contact near my navel. Tired and sore, I let out a small giggle at the ticklish feeling running up my spine.

"Jeez, you've lost a lot of blood."

"Dun't worreeee. I've ghat lotssss to spare."

"Shit."

He lifted my head and called out to Sam. I'm not sure what he said because things were starting to get dark. I could hear the youngest Winchester following through with the rest of the ritual. Next to me I heard movement and that sadistic voice, laced with pain and nearing what I hoped was death, whispered to Dean one last time.

"This is not over Winchester. Not for you and especially not for her."

Sometime after that everything went black, but not in a loosing conscious sort of sense. It was a different feeling. I was still awake but everything had grown dark. I felt myself floating weightlessly in the thick ebony. There was no pain. No sounds. Just the uncomfortable black.

I stretched my legs and was surprised when they clicked against solid ground. I tapped them a few times to verify this and I was right. Light soon filtered in. Bright, white light, emanating from incandescent bulbs. The smell of cleaning detergents and latex burned my nose. I shielding my eyes from the light and slowly let myself adjust to my new surroundings. It was only after a moment when I had a chance to really see, that I realized my surroundings were not that foreign at all. In fact, I had become quite accustom to the place in the last few days.

Running a tired hand along my face, I approached the familiar hospital bed that still contained my coma induced self. However, I stopped when a dark shape formed over the stiff white sheets. It was just that, a dark shape; a sinister shadow, just looming above my bed. If it weren't for the deep red eyes that turned on me at that moment then I wouldn't have known what it was.

A long extension of the shadow drew closer to my still body. I made a move to stop it but was blown back into the wall. I dropped to the floor, trying to gather enough strength to try again when the glint of a metal blade appeared from the ebony devil. A voice echoed through the white room. There was no mouth visible that could have spoken but I knew it belonged to the threatening shadow.

"You tell those Winchesters they haven't seen the last of me. Their trick back there with the banishing ritual can only banish me from their world for so long."

He leaned in over my chest. I got to my feet just as the blade dangled dangerously over my body's chest. His eyes glowed menacingly.

"I told you Leah Carlson. It was either you or the Winchesters and I always keep my word."

The sharp metal cut the air and tore through my chest. A sharp sting was all I felt but my body jerked off the bed and then settled. Blood pooled around the blade and I could make out the sound of the bed springs creaking nosily as it was pushed deeper into the flesh. A loud beeping sound rang out and the door to the room was thrown open. A man -who I recognized as my doctor- came rushing in, flanked by two nurses. The shadow disappeared into a pile of dark smoke that escaped through the air vents. The knife however still remained. Erect and imbedded in my chest.

I felt my stomach turn and I stumbled forward in shock. The blood had leaked onto the polished linoleum, creating a dark, red puddle about the nurse's sneaker covered feet. The beeping sound was extinguished. Things were growing dark once again and I felt myself floating weightlessly. The last thing I saw before the scene faded to nothing was the heart monitor next to my bed as it flat lined.

* * *

The darkness gradually cleared and once again the pain was there, eating away at my stomach. I opened my eyes, blinked away the tears and stared up into the face of Sam Winchester. It was now his lap that I lay in.

"Thank God" I heard Dean whisper from my left. "Sammy, I thought that ritual was only supposed to banish that red eyed son of a bitch."

"It was."

Dean appeared in my line of sight and took my hand in his. "Then what happened to Leah? Why did she disappear with him?

Sam paused. "Their connection maybe? He was the one who brought her here, I'm sure he could have taken her back."

It dawned on me as they continued to talk what had just happened. The past few minutes quickly assaulted me and I realized in horror what it all meant. What Missouri had said about my body being attached to me here and what the shadow back at the hospital had just done.

Desperately I grabbed hold of Dean's arm, drawing his attention back on me. Tears trickled down the sides of my face. I could feel the cold filtering into my body once again and I was growing tired but it didn't matter.

"Dean" I slurred.

"Shh, don't talk right now" Sam commanded. Dean nodded but I only shook my head.

"He took me back."

"Leah…"

"He took me back so that he could show me" I sucked in a ragged breath.

"Show you what Leah?" said Sam.

"Show me that he was right. That…that I …that I would die. If you two didn't…than…than I would."

"No ones dying" shouted Dean.

He reached down and scooped me into his arms. He held me close to his chest as he began to jog through the cemetery, Sam right on his heels. I reached up and laced my hand in his t-shirt and pushed my face into the soft fabric.

"It's too late Dean" I muttered.

He never broke stride but answered with a "What do you mean it's too late?"

"I'm already dead. He killed me Dean" the tears ran rampant down my cheeks and I buried myself further into his chest before crying out the last few words. "Dean, I'll never be able to go back home. He killed me."

* * *

**DUN DUN DUN**. _Lol. Next chapter will be up sooner if only you review, review, review._


	20. Chapter 18

**A/N:** **_Okay I wanna keep this short and sweet. Here's the last chapter for Crash Course. It was one of the most difficult to write so I hope it came out okay and that I wrapped it up nicely. Anywho, enjoy and please review so I know I did a good job :D_**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own em.**

**A/N #2:** _**Oh and when you're finished this be sure to check up Postmortem! It is the sequel to this story and the Prologue is already up. It's not very long but I'm in the midst of getting the first chapter up which will be long. Enjoy!**_

**_Crash Course_**

**_By: Babyhilts_****_  
_**

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**Chapter 18:**

Blood stained the pale blue cotton t-shirt a pitiful brown. Soaked thoroughly all the way through, it now clung to my chest. The trickling red; sticky and thick like good ole Canadian maple syrup felt unnaturally cold against my skin. The hairs along my arms stood erect as once again the wind blew my way. My teeth clamped shut, eliciting a sharp clicking sound throughout the night. Eyes closed, I waited for pain to pass. It wasn't hurting as much now that Dean had stopped moving me around but the fact that the suffering was improving on its own wasn't reassuring in the least. I was beginning to feel numb. Everything seemed swallowed up in this tangerine haze. It was rising out of the earth and surrounding us. It dulled my senses and gave me this euphoric type of feeling. I was sure at any minute the haze would grow denser and a thick orange cloud would form to carry me away.

Warm, protective arms that cradle me like the wounded animal I felt I was, tightened around my back. The gentle rise and fall of the hunter's chest beneath my head helped to calm my fears. I kept my head turned into his t-shirt, my nose rubbing playfully against his collar bone as I snuggled further into him. Were I in my right mind I wouldn't have acted so foolish, but the blood was streaming down the legs of my jeans and I couldn't help myself.

"You still with me Carlson?"

A thick index finger wedged itself into my back. I groaned and muttered something indiscernible to both of us.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Dean's breath -hot and tinted with the flavor of cinnamon and cocoa powder-washed across my face. I tasted the air around us and felt myself growing lightheaded. Was it possible to get drunk off a Winchester? I knew from personal experience a Winchester could GET you drunk but to get drunk OFF one was a whole other possibility I wasn't aware of.

"Mmmm" was the pleasurable sound I made while I struggled to lift my head.

A callused hand cupped the back of my head, gently pressing it back into place against the cotton shirt and leather jacket. Another wave of pain hit me and I moaned, clenching my teeth tighter. The arm that had up until that point dangle limply off the side now swung tiredly in mid air. I searched; reaching through the tangerine haze, needing to grab onto something. My other arm had gotten wedged in-between Dean's muscled right side.  
"Shhh, it's okay Leah. Relax."

The hand cupping my head fell away and sought out my own hand, pulling it back down. Dean's fingers laced with mine.

"It hurts…bad…"I slurred, thick and unintelligent as I rubbed my face against his chest. "I know it does. Just keep breathing okay?"

My fingers tightened around his own. The pain was increasing. Where was that orange cloud when you needed it? Instead of making things dull, the haze only disoriented me and took me further away from Dean and not the agony in my abdomen. The torture I was feeling was no longer subsiding the way it had been, it seemed to only get worse.

"Leah?"

A groan escaped. I bit through the tender flesh of my bottom lip and stared teary eyed at the trained hunter. I felt like a child. I hated the look he was giving me. Pity? Was that it? God, did I hate pity.

"Dean." I turned my face back into his jacket and kept out the haze by closing my eyes. "Dean…please."

"Just keep breathing Leah. That's all you gotta do."

There was a short pause where I tried to take in what Dean was telling me. Just breathe. It didn't seem that hard to do but when it felt like nails were being driven through your lower torso every few minutes you start to hold your breath and hope it keeps out the pain.

"Remember that day when you started hyperventilating outside that dive in Texas?"

I snorted. Dean chuckled.

"Well, you just gotta do for me now what you did then. Okay? Just take it nice and slow."

The dry night air trickled into my mouth and fingered my lungs appreciatively. I could taste pine and damp oak and Dean's overpowering aftershave. His chest rose and fell and so my head followed suit. Callused fingers slipped across clammy palms. I whimpered and blinked and breathed just like he said. It was the only thing I held onto. Dean's last words engraved in my head. Just breathe in. Breath out. Breathe in. Breath out. Do what you did then. Nice and slow.

It was the pressure of light against my eyelids that stole me from this mantra. Dean started to shift impatiently. The movement jarred my bruised chest and open wound. White, hot agony shattered the night around me. Unable to hold back, a sharp scream pierced the silence. I snaked a hand around my abdomen and threw my head back into the hunter's broad shoulders. He grunted, wrapped his arms about my body and ran. Deep, ragged breaths rang through my head. I was too sore to scream so that now only a small cry fell on deaf ears. The light grew brighter as we neared our destination. I took a chance and opened my eyes. Pale light cut through the air towards us, blinding me almost instantly. It was moving fast at first but as Dean stopped dead center in the middle of the dirt road, the lights began to slow.

"Sam…"I moaned against Dean's chest.

The high beams went out, leaving only the dimly lit headlights. The familiar form of the black Chevy quickly took shape before us. A low growl emanated from the heap of metal and upholstery. The soft grind of metal sounded and the drivers' side door opened, revealing the lanky form of the youngest Winchester.

"Dean?" the form cocked it's head. "Is that you?"

"No Sammy. I'm the other guy with the wounded girl…Dude, of course it's me! Now move your ass will ya?"

Sam Winchester stepped into the light, wielding a wool blanket and a bottle of water. His movements were quick and precise as he came to a stop beside Dean. A reassuring smile was flashed my way. I wanted to cry with relief at my own personal guardian angel, now here with me. That's was Sam was. A big hand combed back the bangs from out of my face. Sam loomed over Dean and I, as he always did and leaned in for a look at my stomach. I shifted uncomfortably as he ran fingers along the caked blood.

"She doesn't look too good Dean."

"Is that so college boy? Huh, and all this time I thought she was faking."

Sam cursed his older brother and turned back to the running impala. Dean followed suit. The youngest Winchester was already slipping back behind the wheel when Dean lowered me into the backseat.

"Hey, Green Giant!"

The shaggy head whipped around and glared miserably at his older brother.

"Dean, we don't have time for this."

"I know. So, get in the back with Leah. I'm driving."

"Dean…"

The hunter reached through the car and dragged the lanky man out by his shoulders.

"Come on Grandma we all know how you drive."

The backseat shifted under Sam's weight as he climbed across the upholstery and moved to get comfortable. Metal doors slammed shut and the engine turned over. Dean shouted something to us over his shoulder but his voice was drowned in the increasing noise of the running engine. A sharp jolt and a minute later Dean had the Impala on the road, breaking the speed limit and possibly the sound barrier.

Sam draped the blanket over my chest and pulled my head onto his lap. My legs curled painfully over the edge of the seat and I could feel the wound shifting under the new position. I groaned. Sam placed the bottle of water into my hands and helped me to take a long sip.

"Dean, can't you drive any faster?"

"Hey! Don't you say anything about MY driving! Okay little brother?"

Sam lifted the bottle to my lips again and I drank.

"Fine. Just get us to the nearest hospital as soon as you can. She's loosing too much blood."

_Hospital._

The word echoed through the halls of my mind.

_Devil. Red eyes. Flat lining. The whir of machines. Dead. Dying. Bleeding. Doctors._

The plastic bottle slipped from my hands and rolled towards the front passenger seat. Water still sitting in my mouth dribbled down my chin as I thrashed in Sam's arms.

"Leah?"

Dean's face stared at us from the rearview mirror.

"What the hell is she doing Sam?"

"Leah calm down. What is it?"

I gripped the younger man's t-shirt and clung desperately to his chest.

"Can't go…I can't go…hospital…no hospital Sam…."

I sputtered water onto our laps. Sam pulled me into him, hugging my tight to his body.  
"Leah, you need a hospital…"

"No!"

I thrashed and screamed, and came close to kicking the back window out. Dean was cursing up a storm from behind the wheel.

"Why Leah? Why can't we take you?"

"Devil. Sam the devil's there. He…killed me. Killed me there…"

Tears ran rampant down my cheeks at this point. I shifted to find Dean's gaze in the rearview mirror. He'd gone quiet with this new knowledge. I waited, watching him, trying to get it across to him.

"Please, don't take me back" I mumbled.

"Okay Leah. It's alright. We won't take you back" whispered Sam.

He rubbed my arms and dragged the blanket over both of us. After a moment I relaxed and let my eyes close. The brothers remained silent and soon the silence turned into peace. Darkness was creeping in, slowly filtering through the pain and numbing my senses once again. I relished in it and soon found myself falling down a long, winding tunnel into unconsciousness.

* * *

Gradually darkness began to fade to light. Off white walls, illuminated by incandescent bulbs burned my retinas. A pained groan escaped past my lips. Slowly I began to ease my eyes open. I was drowning in large, soft padding. Deep cushions it seemed had swallowed me up, trapping my frame between them. I shifted in the seat and noticed a heavy quilt draped across my chest. The smell of green tea fragranced the still air while perfumed flowers tortured my lungs. A bowl of potpourri stood on the table next to me. Rolls of gauze, sewing needles, rubbing alcohol and anything else you would expect to find in your average first aid kit were there also. Bloodied hand towels lay in a heap on the mahogany table. They were stained an awful brown from hours of soaking in the bodily fluid.

Light breathing arose from an evergreen armchair. In the far corner of the room, snuggled comfortable beneath his own blanket was the sleeping form of Sam Winchester. Thick brown bangs, drenched in sweat and pasted to his forehead, he remained innocent and peaceful in sleep. Dark purple bruised his cheeks while a few minor scratches marred his face here and there. The boy's lip stuck out, swollen and red. I cringed as he shifted and groaned before settling once more.  
Footsteps padded quietly across the floor. I heard the movement and dug the heels of my hands into the couch cushions, attempting to sit myself upright. My attempts were halted when a burning sensation blazed a trail of agony along my chest and into my stomach. With a dull cry I sunk further into the soft bedding and pinched my eyes shut against the pain.

"Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence."

A smile tugged my lips apart. Eyes now open I stared up at the chiseled frame of Dean Winchester. A dark blue washcloth, dripping water onto the carpet sat in his open hand. He stepped in towards the couch and kneeled on the floor beside me.

"You gonna give me a sponge bath?" I teased. Dean cocked his eyes mischievously at me.

"Maybe later."

With gentle hands he lowered the quilt revealing nothing but my naked stomach and black bra. I swallowed the lump of embarrassment bubbling to the surface and tried to convince myself that this had been necessary. They had to strip me down to save my life. My eyes narrowed on the protruding tummy and a wave of nausea hit me. Seconds later the man had covered my stomach with the heavy rag and slowly began to wipe at the gathered sweat and caked blood. He moved the cloth around the thick white bandages, careful not to get them wet.

"How long have I been out?"

Dean pulled his focus away from the cloth. Hazel eyes met my own for half a second before they fell on the rag once more.

"Not very long. Two, maybe three hours."

"Where's Missouri?"

"In bed."

"And Sam, when did he fall asleep?"

"Thirty minutes ago."

I sighed. "And what about you?"

The washcloth paused a few inches above my navel. Warm water trickled along the curve of my stomach and down onto the quilt. Dean's lips quivered in the dim lighting but only enough so that I almost thought that it wasn't happening. Rough, callused hands peeled the rag from my skin and tossed it carelessly onto the table. An awkward silence fell upon us soon after.

"Dean?"

A forced grin stared back at me.

"Well, someone had to watch your ass."

The hunter eased himself to his feet, pulling the quilt back into place over my chest. Warmth immediately enveloped my body. I turned my face against the soft pillow, nuzzling my cheek against the comforting smell of the lilac fabric softener. Dean picked the soiled cloths from off the table and tossed them into a plastic salad bowl I hadn't noticed before.

"How's the pain?"

He shifted the bowl into the crook of his arm, glancing back every now and then to his sleeping brother. I shrugged.

"Still there."

He nodded. "Okay, I'll go get you something for it. Just don't move alright?"

"Yes mom."

"I'm serious. We don't want an infection setting in since someone was too stubborn to go to a hospital. You're lucky Missouri and I know a thing or two about stitches."

"Uh, huh."

Dean sighed, loud and deep before mumbling something about getting me some pain pills. He left, salad bowl in hand as he made his way towards the kitchen. The metal taps squealed and the sound of running water filled the house. My eyes suddenly felt very heavy. I listened as Dean ran the water over the rags. I could hear them sloshing around in sink. The darkness was creeping in again. I pressed my face against the pillow and breathed in the smell of lilac. The light fragrance pulled me under, back into unconsciousness before Dean had even returned with the pills.

_**…Two Weeks Later…**_

Sam and Dean busied themselves with the small task of packing their things into the back of the Impala. The engine purred anxiously. Missouri had already said her goodbyes and was already hiding somewhere deep inside the moderate Lawrence home. I on the other hand couldn't help but sit on the front steps and watch as the two young men prepared to head out on the road.  
Two days earlier a new set of coordinates had been sent. John was demanding they slay another evil and save another innocent and so after their two week stay in Kansas they were leaving. We all knew it was bound to happen sooner or later but I guess I hadn't really imagined them leaving so soon; especially leaving with me behind.

In all honesty, the last nine days spent with the Winchesters hadn't been all that pleasant. The first day or so after the accident I'd been too tired to care about anything else except the overwhelming pain. There'd only been so many pain pills I could take a day so every other minute was spent moan and groaning on the couch and watching Oprah with Missouri. However as the pain dulled and each day passed I started to get back to my old self. It was around the fourth day when things finally hit me. The reality of my situation hit and hit hard. I was never going home. I'd never see my baby sister again or her beautiful family. I'd never watch her little girl grow up and I'd never be able to hug my mom again. They'd never know what really happened to me.

A few tears escaped and ran along my cheeks. I brushed them away before anyone could see and stared defiantly across the driveway to where the two men continued to pack. I couldn't look at them the same way anymore. Not since the accident when I decided that were it not for them and their need to save everyone from the big bad world that I'd still have a chance to go home. There would still be that possibility of seeing my mother and Caitlin. Now any chance of ever seeing Vancouver again had been shot to hell. All because of the Winchesters. All because they refused to listen to me. I'd told them nothing good would come of this. That someone was going to get hurt and that someone happened to be me.

Sam closed the trunk to the '67 Chevy. Dean went around the front to grab something out of the driver's seat. They both knew where they stood with me now and yet as upset at them as I was I couldn't help but feel a bit sad that they were leaving. I didn't think I'd ever forgive the brothers for what had happened and now that they were leaving…

"Leah?"

Sam stood a few feet from me, arms dangling uselessly at his sides. He shuffled his feet awkwardly as I rose to stand before him. The boyish smirk flashed my way before once again disappearing behind the man.

"Hey you" I smiled back.

My arms wrapped about his waist hesitantly at first and then as his own wound about my back I tightened the embrace. Time froze for a moment and any feelings I'd harbored for him were put on the back burner. Who knew when I'd see him again?

"Miss you" I mumbled into his shirt and I could feel Sam chuckle slightly at the comment. As he pulled away I noticed his eyes had welled slightly but he turned back towards the Impala and muttered his own 'I'll miss you too' before leaving me alone once again.

I watched as Sam disappeared inside the black Chevy without a second glance my way. The passenger door slamming shut broke the silence. Minutes passed, I stood hugging my arms against my chest. Dean crawled out of the car and came around the side. Before I knew what was happening, I started to walk towards him. We met each other in the middle of the gravel driveway. Dean flipped a piece of stiff, brown suede in his hands. Cautiously he placed it in my own. I knew right away what it was. The protective sheath only covered the thick hunting knife that lay inside. It was the same knife he'd leant me days earlier when he told me to be careful in the cemetery.

"Thanks."

Dean nodded. "Sure. "

Silence fell upon us and we both shifted under the others gaze.

"Look" he said while running a hand through his short hair. "I'm no good at this sorta thing so…"

"Yeah, me either" I added.

"Well then, uh, I guess I'll see you in a few weeks."

"Yeah, sure. I'll still be here."

Dean shrugged and lowered his hand. "Alright then. I guess that's it."

I smiled. "Guess so."

"Goodbye."

We both leaned in, arms apart, embracing each other as if afraid we might contract some type of transmittable disease if we held on too long or got too close. We broke apart after a few mere seconds and shuffled on the spot once again.

"Well, goodbye Dean."

"Bye."

Fingers curled tightly around the suede sheath in my hands. Dean moved back inside the Impala and revved the engine. My vision blurred as tears began to well up in my eyes. I blinked; sweeping them away with my thick lashes and when I looked again the Chevy was kicking up rocks and pulling out onto the road. A shudder overtook my body and my lips quivered. The lean muscle car crawled along the baking asphalt and out of sight. I could still hear its familiar engine even after it had disappeared. The sobs came harder and faster and I only held on tighter to the knife in my hands. I cried for home, to be with my family. I cried for the boys to come back and for us to be the same as we were before all this shit had happened. But I cried mostly because now it was official. I was alone. Stuck in a strange world that was like a nightmare I'd never wake up from.

Taking a deep breath, I took one last look at the empty street and strained my ears in hopes of hearing the sound of Chevy being carried across the light summer winds. The pain in my stomach was surfacing once again and so reluctantly I headed back towards the house. My new home; in Lawrence Kansas


End file.
